My Kind of Bollocks First to Last: A Series
by Cwen2
Summary: MKOB is a series that blends the shows BTVS and ATS while integrating new characters into the 'verse. It's just after the dragdown fight in LA, and the world's in trouble again. Who'll save the day?
1. Fic the First: The Setup

This is the alley. This is our alley. It writhes with the screams of warriors and dies with the blood of many. The demons are brave but our guys are braver. Our guys are the warriors; the demons are mere soldiers. Their battle cries and their blood are what make this our alley. In their presence they give this alley to us. They give this piece of the earth back. It's the least they can do. Human or otherwise, outnumbered or not, they are still fierce, still committed, and still ready.

Gunn was the first. He was struck down like any would be considering that wound. He fought though. God, did he fight. Little more than ten minutes left and he still could have taken a small army. Nearly did.

What was that? Did the very ground they fight on shake as Gunn left this world? Spike felt it. Or maybe it was his imagination. He could never be sure in times like this.

"Did you feel that?" he called to Illyria as they tore through the demons six at a time.

"Shut up and fight," she replied deadpan in a way only she could. She punctuated her sentence with the sickeningly wet crack of a random head coming of a random neck by her hand. Pretty, huh? She moves off.

_I carry the weight of the world as the past is unfurled, but I won't stop to wonder.  
Going through this life on my own made me as cold as a stone.  
I'm a ship going under.  
And I'd tell you this, but I don't know how.  
I'm caving in and I'm falling out and I can't resist  
And I can't rebound with the weight of the world as the world falls down._

Wow, that's loud. You'd think the kid would be deaf by now, but he's not. You'd think he'd be dead from breathing toxic fumes due to his room being a wasteland, but he's okay. The rest of the house isn't like this. It's warm and clean and looks like a magazine. The smells of roast and gravy and the various finally reach his nose. He shuts off the stereo and bounds down the stairs towards the dining room. He stops in front of the desk in the hall to check his hair. Teenagers are insane like that. Suddenly, the ground shakes. The metal candleholders on the desk shiver and clank, pictures fall off walls, and there's the slightest chance it's an earthquake. As soon as it started, it stopped. The boy looks around stunned. Don't we live in Mississippi? Have we ever had an earthquake before? What just happened?

The rain stings his eyes like needles but he's numb to it now. A hundred years of fighting does that to a guy. As he rips and thrashes through the din of animals in armor he mutters to himself, "Bleeding Angel and his bloody plans. Can't die twice, oh no, I gotta die again," he says with a grunt and the thunk that comes with hitting a jaw line. He shakes his head with a sigh, "I'm getting to old for this." It's almost morning now but he doesn't care. Reinforcements are here, so he was told but he hasn't seen any. For the past hour he's been utterly alone fighting through the mass. But then again he's been fighting alone all his life, why stop now. _If you're looking for fun, there's death, there's glory and sod all else, right? _It's been a long night and it only intends to get longer. Well, in theory.

As quick as you can say "Bob's your uncle", Spike's blindsided. They're on him at a frenzied pace. They need to make sure he doesn't get back up. They need to make sure he's dust. Spike kicks and claws his way up, his hands bloodied from ripping at various appendages. Let's not talk about the various. He's pushed, punched, thrown. A sword spins through the night. It's slick with rain and glinting from the alley lights. Spinning turns to swinging. Spike knows. He can feel it. He feels it in his blood like anyone does when they're about to die. That moment of clarity, of peace. That thought, "I wonder if Angel ever got the dra--."

"Something wrong, kitten?"

"What? Oh, no I just felt a shake."

"Just a little seismic shock, sugar pie."

"Well, yeah but still. Jesus, Lorne, they do something new to your makeup?"

Lorne bends down frantically and checks himself in the mirror. He's pleased to find it's the same old Lornikins that was there before, not a hair out of place. He does look like the perfect showman in his sequined suit and glitter on his face. He looks back up at Trista, not amused.

"That wasn't funny," he says putting his hand on his hip and taking a big gulp of his sea breeze.

"Oh, I'm going to actively differ that," Trista replies with a wicked grin on her face. It's her favorite pastime to come and give Lorne mini-heart attacks before his shows. Although Lorne isn't exactly the most intimidating creature in the world, Trista's confident demeanor is still a slight paradox considering she stands only 5'2". She may be a tiny thing with bouncy natural blond hair that comes to her shoulders and uncharacteristically curvy curves for her size, but she can put a verbal smack down on the biggest man in town, and that's saying something considering this is a pretty big town. It is New York after all.

"You know, I could drop dead right here if you did that again."

Still grinning she replies, "Bonus."

Lorne moves from the mirror and sits on the sofa in his nicely spacious dressing room of the nonprison variety. Lorneytoons is no one's canary this time. He does this for the fun and the stage rush. Well the money too. The green stuff gives the green guy a slight spring in his step. Go figure. It's been all too long since Lorne could just stand and sing and laugh. He deserves it.

Trista moves to him and gives him a kiss on the forehead. "I'm done for the night. Or maybe the week. Maybe even the month. I'm going on a trip."

Lorne throws his hands up in mock praise to the heavens, "Finally she leaves! I can sleep again."

"Hey now. I kept you company all those nights on the phone. You were the insomniac, not me."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he says and then smiles at his use of words. He looks to Trista expectantly but she's not grinning with him. Needless to say, Lorne isn't fazed, "See what I did there?"

She grins slightly and lets out a breath, "I saw." She gathers up her things and smiles at Lorne but this time it's a more reflective smile. It's quieter, less content.

"Later, Lorne," she says as she turns away from him. As she leaves she starts to sing, "_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey._"

Watching her leave, Lorne's smile fades.

The alley is still littered with corpses and the smell of death is coming from each and every one. Trista walks through the alley, taking in the scene. She'd only been in L.A. for an hour but knew right where to go. _Just follow the stench of death._ Trista has been a busy girl, no doubt. Things have a tendency to go that route when one is trying to keep her world in order. It's been weeks of nothing but meetings and problems and misdirection. But she knew that this was the alley. I mean, look at it. It had to be the alley.

She walks through and over the corpses shaking her head and muttering to herself, "It's amazing they can even keep it hidden anymore." She walks to a small clearing where it seems the bodies fell in a diamond. Trista steps into the center of the diamond and takes a breath. The ground seems to fall from under her and not in the run-of-the-mill-cement-breaking kind of way. This ground falls and folds smoothly and silently.

She's standing at the chest-of-drawers rummaging through it. The bedroom she is in, while plain and definitely not luxurious, is neat and pleasant. Trista, clearly only a few minutes from her earth foldage, is beside herself with annoyance. She slams her hands down on the chest and calls to the ceiling, "All the power in the universe and you can't conjure up a freaking pen? I mean, come on, you can make a room from thin air, move the cosmos but I can't write on a post-it? What the hell!" She moves to the small bed as she mutters, "Stupid Powers That Suck."

Suddenly the room begins to shake violently. Not afraid and, frankly, not amused, Trista checks her watch. With a scream of pain, a figure appears in front of her. His body stiff and rigid from said pain, he clenches his fists and doubles over as the silver light that explodes from him shrinks back into his chest. The figure is Spike. Standing. Standing tall. Standing alive… well sort of.

"Hi," says Trista with a slight wave.

Spike turns around in shock, heartily freaking out. If his heart could beat, it'd be doing a hundred yard dash right about now. Suddenly, he gets what's going on. His shoulders go limp, and he relaxes and takes in his surroundings with disdain, if not a hint of annoyance.

"Oh, bloody hell."

Spike paces, running his tongue over his teeth and clearly more than a titch annoyed at this point. Our boy's in rant mode.

"You couldn't leave me dead, could you?"

"Not dead just held--"

"Ol Spike can't be dead five minutes without some insane ponce coming along and breaking loose my own personal hell-- wait, what?"

Trista rises, all business, and calmly says to Spike, "You were supposed to die. You would've died but we intercepted you, held you a bit, brought you back."

Spike just stares at her and after a beat, he raises his left eyebrow and speaks calmly and deadpan, "What in the hell is wrong with you, you. Crazy. Bint."

"Hello? Have you met me? Did I just not make you corporeal in this very room? Were you not dead like five minutes ago?"

"You just said I was intercepted."

"You know what I mean," Trista snaps after she rolls her eyes, "Now sit down and listen."

Spike looks at her. Who does she think she is? She's acting like she's a god when it's clear she's just a tiny little blond. Then he has a thought, sighs and speaks as he sits, "Well would you look at that, another bitty Buffy."

Trista smiles at him and replies wickedly, "You have no idea."

She claps her hands together and addresses him as if she's a cruise ship coordinator, "Now I know this may be hard for you but you need to try to keep the mouth shut," she continues to speak as she starts to slightly pace, "A week ago you and your little compatriots were Bravehearting it out in that alley. You, Spikey boy, were decapitated."

She pauses and comes closer to him. Her tone becomes more somber, more serious, "All of your friends are dead. Gunn, and Angel, and you," she shakes her head in disbelief, "We're still trying to figure out how many it took to take Illyria out."

At this point many things are running through Spike's mind. He didn't really know any of them, he hated Angel, but he was affected. When you're with people so long, you get used to having them around. He feels so… so alone. There's this deep loneliness inside of him and it's like nothing he's ever felt before. From the day he was born until now he was always with someone. Sure, the Scoobies are still alive but are god knows where. Then something crosses his mind. If he was decapitated, killed like everyone else then why was he here?

"What?" is about all he can manage.

"What do you mean what? I figured English would be your first language," Trista replies. She looks at Spike and sees that he's having slight problems with the processing thing. She says to him tentatively, "Do you need me to stop? I mean, I kind of have to keep going, but I could pause. There could be mulling, you could mull."

"Is there some point to this?"

"I'm getting there," says Trista as she moves to a backpack in the corner and takes out a can of Red Bull. She looks to Spike and motions with the can, "You want?"

"I don't drink that crap. Could you get on with it already?"

"Jesus H. Christ! Fine, fine. I'm just trying to make you comfortable."

"I just came back from the dead. Again. I'm far from comfortable, love," Spike replies about as calm as he can. This was all epic and whatnot about ten minutes ago but now Spike's getting a titch bored. He gets up and moves to the wall and leans.

"Alright, alright. I don't think you need to know that the Powers consider you a championic heroe-y thing, yes? Well, the same goes for your buds in L.A. No surprise there either. But here's the twist, in order for our world to function, for it to not hurdle into the sun, metaphorically and literally, we need a certain amount warriors, champions if you will, on this plane of existence. Usually, this isn't a problem. One kicks it, another pops up, it's all good but something happened. We're in a shortage right now and every time one dies, Earth gets the shakes."

"A shortage? What the hell are you on about? Last year you got a double wide delivery of hero in the form of slayers."

"Ah, but being a slayer doesn't always equal champion. Those girls were _only_ potentials for a reason. Potentials have the formula but there's literally only one or two in every generation who has what it takes. There's one that's chosen and the other more than likely ends up fighting for our side anyway. Being a slayer isn't purely genetic, it's also very much mystical and it's very much the inner heart of an individual. Also, there's this, I don't know, thing. It's kind of like the sun only the beam only hits one concentrated area. The slayer. But when you guys did the big slayer awakening, it messed the beam up, spread it too thin so a good amount of would be slayer champions would never know it because they only have like a millionth of the awakening the could've had. Essentially, you screwed us in the long run. In the generations to come, our would be champions end up being sales clerks at Wal-Mart. The universe is freaking out. But we figured out how to make it right."

"Who's 'we'?"

"The Council. You know. Rupert Giles. I've been working with him. Like I was saying, we figured it out. To fix it, we needed a vampire with a soul and I was never a Bangel fan."

"Bang-- what?"

"Look, I made the call and I wanted you because, see, the creamy center of this Oreo cookie of a plan is a simple three letter word: Sex."


	2. Fic the Second: Cruxes are Dangerous Bus

"Are you out of your gourd? You brought me back to have a go with some random bird? That's your big anti-apocalypse plan? We might as well put our heads between our legs and--"

"You'd have to 'have a go', as you say, with Buffy."

"--I'm in."

Trista smiles at his instant turn around and says to him, sipping her Red Bull, "Enjoying the crux, huh?"

Spike shrugs and looks at Trista, "The crux was a little overdone a couple years ago but a guy's gotta take what he can get."

Trista starts to grab her bag and head out, "Whatever, Romeo. You're a softy at heart. You know it. I know it. It's a big Know Fest. I also know that I'll get skinned if I don't get downtown in like four hours."

"You are downtown."

"Downtown New York, sweetie. You're going with me. Let's get to the getting."

"Hello? Airplane, windows. Fire-- pfft!"

Trista shrugs and starts to leave, "You'll stay in the cargo hold."

"What!"

Trista saw Spike off, making sure that he was all nice and cramped in the cargo hold before she went to check herself in. The good thing about knowing people is that they do you favors, like putting vamps in cargo, for instance.

Trista really doesn't like flying. I mean really. She sits in her seat fiddling with the safety belt that seems to dislike her to the point of utter insubordination. Why does it have to be so cramped? The seats are so small and she's choking with the smells of dampness and endless wear and tear. She looks out the window anxiously and takes big Lamaze-type breathes as she checks her watch and sees that it's only two minutes before take off. Torture much?

She breathes more before she starts rambling in her thoughts with great speed, "_I'm eleven and dad and I were walking in the park in winter. It wasn't snowing because never snowed in the area and it wasn't even that cold. We only had our windbreakers on. We start racing down Monkey Hill. I trip on a rock and go flipping down the hill. I'm crying and screaming and my knee is bleeding a lot. Dad comes sliding down next to me and says that I'll be okay and that it's not as bad as it looks. Someone must've called an ambulance because I can hear the sirens."_

"What'd she say again?"

"That she'd be here in like a half hour."

"This is insane."

"What's insane?"

"This. This is, in fact, insane."

"Indeed."

"Don't mock me."

Chloe smiles at Sam sweetly and apologizes. Chloe knows it seems insane, but if you think about it-- well, if you _don't _think about it, then a group of chosen people called Slayers and real vampires could very well exist. But then again, Chloe's always had a bit of wild streak in her. She enjoys dying her hair green and fishnet and most of all, she enjoys the idea of the point of life being to kick ass. She's probably _more_ willing to believe because of the apparent insanity.

Chloe's known Trista for years and the idea of her being some kind of super girl is just amazing, if not a little insane. Trista was never the wild one, never the fighter, yet turns out that it's her birthright. Life's funny like that.

Sam's different. He doesn't know what the hell's going on and would like to keep it that way if he could. Other than the fact that his sister has a nut job for a friend, his life was pretty dull. Operative word being "dull". While he's quasi-popular, he can't help the fact that Chloe is still his best friend. For those of you keeping score, that's strange. It's not often that your sister is your buddy. Especially not at nineteen.

Sam turns to Chloe and sighs, "I don't even get why we have to go through with this. What proof do we have to show she's, oh I don't know, not crazy!"

"Other than the vampire that attacked you at the park last month?"

Sam becomes restless. Suddenly their spacious and well-furnished apartment seems to be too small. It's true Trista never seemed crazy until that night. She never said anything about vampires or slayers or Los Angeles or even if she wanted to be a florist. For all he knows, she's arranging a bouquet right now. He gets up and paces, "This is insane."

Chloe turns to him with a slight snap, "I heard you the first fifty times." She gets up and starts closing the window shades so that there's no natural light in the room.

"What time is it?"

"Two forty."

"She called at two. She should be here soon, right?"

"Logic would assume."

"Logic never assumes. It's too smart for that."

There's a knock at the door before it's opened revealing Trista who comes in, with a heavily smoking, blanketed Spike in tow. Trista closes the door as she greets Sam and Chloe, "Hey guys."

Spike, flings his blanket off to stomp on the flames that erupted from them before the door closed. After quelling the flame, Spike glares at Trista, "I. Hate. You. You. Bitch."

Trista smiles and says to Chloe and Sam, "Lovely ray of sunshine, isn't he?"  
"Don't even mention the bleeding sun right now! I was almost charbroiled. Who in their right minds puts that many windows in an apartment building? It's the bleeding fifth floor! I need a smoke."  
"Sit down and cool off! Jesus," Trista says as she turns towards Chloe and Sam. Chloe seems to be staring at Spike, and Sam, with his jaw dropped, is staring at the ashes that were embedded in the white carpet. Trista sees the mark on the carpet and says sheepishly to Sam, "It might come out if you steam clean it." Sam looks at her like she's insane and shakes his head as he walks off, "Oh sure. Yeah, yeah, steam cleaning."

"Chloe, this is Spike. Spike, Chloe and Sam."

Chloe slightly smiles at him, "Good to me--"

"Lovely," cuts Spike. He turns to Trista in what seems to be a perpetual annoyance, "We gonna do this anytime soon or are you just gonna take me around as a conversational piece?"

"Well you are fun to look at what with the bone structure and all," Trista says before calling to Sam, "We're gonna get started. You coming?"

Sam does come and he and Chloe sit on the sofa by Spike and Trista sits in the chair that faces the sofa, "Okay. So, I guess we're gonna start… okay…. Herm."

"'Herm'? Who the hell put you in charge?"

"Shut up, Spike," sighs Trista before she starts again, "Well, see, after a lot of researching, we figured out how to make it so there'll be a certain amount of champions in the world and in every generation to come. Just like it used to be. The way it works is we'll have seven teenage slayers, one of which being myself, stand in a circle in a specific temple--"

"Temple?" asks Sam.

"Yeah, it's been around for like thousands of years or something."

"Where is it?"

"Underground. In Queens."

"Oh because Queens is a prime location for a temple."

"Shut up, Sit-and-Snark." Trista snaps, "Yes, Queens. Anyway, the slayers stand in the circle and then we have The Conjoining. It's a ritual that includes the intercourse of the Impossible and the Pure," she turns to Spike and addresses him, "That's where you come in."

"If I'm supposed to be the 'pure' you got the wrong guy."

"No. You're the Impossible. If you're supposed to be The Pure we might as well roll over and die now," she says as she takes out a notebook and quotes a passage from, without a doubt, one of Giles' old books, "You fit the description that Giles found. 'He met death yet still he walks. He houses a demon yet humanity screams in his heart. He fights though he has none to fight for. Man, Death, Demon, Hero. Impossible.' That's you, babe."

Chloe turns to Spike, slightly amazed, "Wow."

Spike looks at her and scoffs slightly, "Thanks ever so," and turns to Trista, "What about the Pure? Buffy may look the part but hate to break it to you, she's not all that pure. Some might consider her slightly dirty if you catch her in the right mood."

"Okay, ew. I didn't mean virginal pure. She's-- she's Pure Humanity. She was born. She lived. Died a human death, fought endlessly, fell from grace, and climbed clawing and screaming back into it. She's not just a hero, she's human. Completely, utterly human. She symbolizes us all," she pauses to let that sink in before continuing, "What'll happen is you and she will be on the altar, the girls circled around you--"

"Not that I don't love public indecency, but a bunch of teenagers?"

"They'll be in a trance. They won't even see you. When the conjoining has reached its height, the power source will appear and re-channel all of it's energy to you two and then you will act as a conduit that cycles the energy to the seven chosen. They'll be the main and only true Slayers left. They'll have enough strength and power that it will cycle through their family lines, ensuring a certain amount of heroes in this world until the end. Kind of like the ravens at Tower of London that keep it from falling down. We still have some kinks to work out in the ritual itself but it's all pretty solid."

"This is insane."

Trista looks at Sam and then shrugs, "Well, yeah. But it's also important. Like world ending type of important. Sam-- guys, I need your help for sure but I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to. This is gonna be bad. Dangerously bad because there's going to be a lot of forces at work trying to stop us. I need to know that you're all-out-one-hundred-and-ten-percent-completely-positively in."

After a pause, Chloe shrugs and leans back, "What the hell. I'm in."

"Sam?"

Sam looks at Trista then at Chloe. _This is crazy. No way this is happening. I'll get myself killed. I can't do this. Pull yourself together, you wuss. It might be possible that the world really does need you. I can't. Nuh uh. Nope. I won't. I--_

"I'm in."

_God help me._

It's night now, and Charms N Things has been long closed. The cozy little magic shop, while perfect for run of the mill love spells and protection satchels, has the potent stuff under lock and key and is not about to let just _anyone_ buy them. Spike and Trista come up to the back door and glance at each other. The door flies in with a SNAP as Spike kicks it in. Trista, stepping over and eyes the broken door pieces, says to Spike, "Nice work."

"I do what I can, pet. What're we looking for?"

"A Mesopotamian Blood Stone. It needs to be ground up and boiled in the blood of a virginal sheep and then ingested by the Impossible."

"You're out of your bleeding mind if you think I'm going to drink that."

"Well, it's a good thing that I only _know _you're going to. Besides, I thought blood was like, your thing."

"Well, yeah but boiled stony sheep blood? I don't think--"

CRASH! The windows in the front are suddenly shattered as a big, burly blood red demon with gigantic silver horns comes crashing through. Before there's even time to speak, Spike's on him. Right hook, backhand, knock to the chest. The demon grabs him by the neck and flings him across the room. Spike lifts his head up, pissed and in vamp(!)face. The demon goes after Trista. She's purely on the defensive. Block, block, duck. Spike comes up and he and Trista fall into perfect synch. Spin kick, drop kick, left hook, back hand. They're on the demon so fast he doesn't know what hit him. Well, he knows what's hitting him: fists. Spike's on the demon's back and in a swift movement snaps his neck. The demon falls to the floor and Spike morphs back to human(!)face. He looks up at Trista who's breathing hard. She grins at him and he grins at her. They both really enjoyed that. After it all, Spike only has one thing to say, "Think they keep the blood stones in the back?"

Chloe and Sam have been online posting messages on Wiccan boards trying to get a hold of the names of the six girls that are destined to be picked from coven's seers. Trista and Spike are in Trista's bedroom, where Trista's cleaning a wound on her elbow and reading a book (multi-tasker!) with the Mesopotamian Bloodstone sitting on one of the pages while Spike looks around the room, "This is a nice set up. Down right posh. How do you guys afford this?"

"Chloe and Sam are trust fund babies. And I'm on the Council's payroll."

"The Council really did get back together?"

"Yeah, they did. It's a lot cooler now and essentially is more of a bring-the-slayers-to-us thing as opposed to a send-one-to-the-slayers-and-hear-about-the-stuffy-Englishness thing."

"So I've heard," he says as he stops looking and sits at the desk chair. He becomes more tentative and carefully worded as he speaks, "So, uh, do the guys… the Scoobies. Do they, you know, know about what happened to me?"

"Just Andrew and Giles. The rest of them just figured that we brought you back from when you died the second time."

He looks at her, really wanting to ask about her but the words are hard to come out.

"How'd Buffy take it?" Trista asks, helping him along, "She was surprised. Really surprised. But she was also dealing with Angel's recent demise at the time."

That's not exactly what Spike wanted to hear. Would it kill the girl to shed a tear once in a while? He becomes a bit withdrawn, and Trista realizes what she did, "Spike, I'm sorry--"

"No, just leave it."

"You sure?"

Without a word, he goes to leave the room but Chloe pops her head in and looks to Trista excitedly, "We got the names. And that Giles guy is on the phone."

Everyone moves to the living room. Trista says to Chloe, "Did they give you anything besides names?"

"Nope. Also, did I tell you how much I emphatically hate computers?"

"Many times. You and Sam start Googling the names. They may come up in, I don't know, student directories, personal websites, Star Trek fan sites. Just try to find whatever you can. And don't go crazy buying Sex Pistols crap again, okay?"

Chloe sighs and mumbles as she walks away, "A girl buys a few tshirts and an out of print copy of Sid and Nancy and all of a sudden she can't be trusted…"

"When were you planning on feeding me?"

"There's pig's blood in the fridge and we have peanut butter and some Wheatabix. I also heard that you like Burba Weed and, after cringing, purposely didn't get any," she says as he moves off towards the kitchen. She happily picks up the phone, "Hey Giles. Yeah, we got the names," she pauses, "Cool, Cool."

"What?" Chloe asks looking up from the computer.

"He found another book dealing with the ritual we're looking for-- Yeah, Giles, I'm still here. Yeah. Yeah. Well, we knew all that didn't we?" she pauses and then her face drops slightly, "What?"

"What'd he say?"

"He said 'Oh, dear Lord.'"

Spike comes in, plopping down on the sofa with a cup o' blood and a handful of Wheatabix, "That's original."

"Shut up, Spike."

"If he got knocked out right now, it'd be bloody classic."

Trista scoffs at him and turns her attention back to Giles, "Okay, so what?" She pauses and hears what must be a big ol' bomb of badness, "Oh. Wow. Are you sure? Okay. I'll call you back. Bye," she says before she hangs up, her face slack and somber. She turns and addresses the group, "We've hit a snag."

Chloe and Sam sit on the sofa, and Spike sits on the chair, Trista sits on the arm of Spike's chair. Everyone is silent and showing Snag-face. Chloe looks up at Trista and says, "Wha-- wait, huh?" Trista shrugs and stands, "Giles said that when we do the channeling, that all the new slayers in the world who are feeding off the power source-- it's like going from really hot to really cold really fast. When this power, this energy is ripped from them, they'll become very sick and… die within twenty-four hours."

Sam looks to Trista and swallows hard, "And how many… slayers are there?"

Trista looks at the ground and shakes her head, "At least four million."

Chloe stares in utter disbelief, "Oh my god."

Spike looks to Trista, "What're we gonna do?"

Before she can answer, a high pitched, perky voice comes from behind them, "I have an idea." They all turn and see the figure of powerful!strong!witch. They turn to see the figure of:

Willow.


	3. Fic the Third: Big Badness

Just where we left off. Everyone's staring at Willow who's holding a stack of old tomes. As she puts them down, Willow looks at Spike and her eyes kind of bug and then she smiles, "Well, look at you! All corporeal and solid. And not on fire! I'm liking the lack of flammable-y…ness."

Spike just kind of looks at her for a minute. His thoughts are along the lines of, "Jesus, it's Willow." but a good portion of it is blank shock. After a bit more staring and with an uncomfortable smile and head bob, Willow says, "Gee. This reunion stuff is fun." This snaps Spike out of his reverie and he clears his throat, "Hey, Red."

"Do we hug? Is there hugging? Or is physical contact not good?"

Before Spike can answer, Willow looks to Trista, "You're Trista? I have a message from Giles for ya." She hands Trista the note who takes it and unfolds to read it. As she starts to read she motions to Willow, "Have a seat, uhm…"

"Willow."

"Right. Willow," Trista suddenly stops and looks at Willow. She recognizes the name. As she looks, she realizes of course it had to be Willow! How could she hear so much about Willow and not recognize her from the start? She's loosing her touch. "Dude, I'm sorry. If I'd known, all the staring and the awkwardness and the thing would've been prevented."

After saying that, everyone looks to Spike waiting for the inevitable comment. Spike, lost in his own thoughts, looks up at them and sees their expectant expressions, "What?"

Trista shakes her head and begins reading the note to herself while addressing Willow, "It's cool that you came. I heard about you when I was in England… 'Hope that she can help with the problems that will arrive…' Not at all a party dampener is he? '…magicks are powerful things…' Blah, blah, etcetera, etcetera. Could his longs be more windy?" Everyone looks at her with a collective "Eh?" in their eyes. Trista explains, "It was a play on the saying 'long winded'. His longs are windy. Get it?"

They, in unison, say, "Oh."

"Yo, Willow?" begins Chloe, "Turns out that this is my first apocalypse and the whole Pure slash Impossible screwing thing, okay I can deal but now there's four million lives at stake and you said you have an idea and, you know, it seems we're crunched for time so I think we should get to your freaking idea, yes?"

"Bout time someone said it," says Spike.

"Oh. Okay. Well, we still really need to have the big orbular redirectory thing because if we don't then, hey, world ending but the original ritual, not a good idea."

"So no mystical sex?" asks Trista.

"No mystical sex."

Trista grins at Spike and snaps her fingers in mock disappointment. This makes Spike smile a little.

"But what we have to do is very simple on paper," Willow continues, "We just have to make a new one."

"Can you- can you do that?" asks Sam in slight awe.

"Sure she can," answers Chloe, "You can, right?"

Willow becomes a little flustered, "Well, uh, well. I mean, yeah. In theory. I'm sure I-- Trista, can we talk?"

"Um, yeah, sure."

They move off to the kitchen and speak in slightly hushed tones.

"Well, see the thing is that I'm still a little shaky about the big magic thing."

"This from the girl who channeled magicks into, like, four million people? Simultaneously?"

"Well, I mean, yeah I did that. Whoo me but this is big."

"But you'll be okay. Sooner or later you're gonna have to face up to your insane power."

"Well, I mean. Okay, yeah. I guess."

Trista smiles at Willow's sincerity and shakes her head, "You'll be fine. Look, it's been a long night and a long day… pretty much a long month so maybe we should just take a break into unconsciousness."

"You go ahead. Is it okay if I work on your computer? There was an incident with mine and atmosphere fusion. We shouldn't speak of it."

Trista laughs and nods, "War room's all yours. We have a PC and Chloe has a laptop."

"Thanks."

They move back to the living room to meet Chloe and Sam. Willow moves to her books and Trista moves toward the bedrooms, "If you're not going to sleep, Willow's in charge."

Chloe, also pretty tired, opts to go to her room. Sam, suddenly energized, volunteers to Trista, "I'm good here," he addresses Willow, "So you're witch? I didn't know those really existed. Are all these books yours? You must be really smart."

Willow smiles at him and crinkles her nose, "Well thanks! If you think you can, I'd love some help looking through the books for a ritual. They're in my notes there."

"Sure. No problem," Sam grabs the notes and the books a little overzealously and trips a bit on his way to the chair. Willow smiles at him and he smiles a big goofy one back. Trista smiles and calls behind her as she leaves, "She's gay."

Sam, not getting it, calls back, "That is so intoler--" he looks at Willow and sees the unapologetic look on her face, "Oh."

Now thoroughly embarrassed, Sam digs into his work.

Chloe and Trista are sitting on Chloe's bed conversing. Trista's a bit tense. Chloe asks, "You okay?"

"I don't know. This is all so surreal."

"Yeah."

"I mean, all this stuff happens and then I'm the guy who's got to be the field agent and take care of all this. And now we're on what really resembles square one. No. Not even. It's more like a negative square."

"You're doing good. Besides there's nothing good on cable."

Trista laughs, "Thanks." Chloe takes out a cigarette, lights it and takes a long drag. Trista crinkles her nose, "Erm. Ew. Night."

She moves to the hall and into her room. She starts to unbutton her pants and take of her shirt. She turns around and screams, "Gyeh!" Spike's lying on her bed sans jacket, grinning.

"I didn't see you."

"Really? I sure saw you, well almost."

"Shut up," she says as she turns to her walk in closet and closes the door with a snap. She begins to undress while calling, "You weren't even going to say anything were you? You were gonna just sit there and watch. Just completely take advantage of my--"

"Blondness?"

Spike pulls out a cigarette as Trista continues, "Do you really want to start," she comes out in plaid pajama pants and a white tank, "an argument about hair color right now?" She moves to him just as he's about to light his cigarette. She pinches the cigarette between her forefinger and her thumb. They lock eyes and stay that close for about a second longer than they should. She slips it out of his mouth and throws it out the open window onto the balcony and closes the window. Spike scoffs at her, "Nazi."

"Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Are you surprised?" she jokes, grinning.

"Well, love, if I can't smoke, what're we going to do," he pauses and runs his tongue over his teeth, "to keep my mouth occupied?"

Trista smiles seductively and saunters over to him. She sighs contemplating the question "Oooohh, I don't know." She then deftly kicks him off the bed, her flirting done, "You seem to keep it occupied enough with the talking thing."

"You know you should learn to take a joke."

"And you should learn not to smoke in my room."

"It's your fault I'm even here. If you would've gotten all you're bloody facts straight--"

"I will beat you with a chair until you can do nothing but twitch. Because kicking your ass? Fun for the whole family."

"Could you be wound any tighter! You--"

CRASH! Their argument is cut short by a gigantic, fierce demon that comes crashing through the window from the balcony, taking some of the wall with him. His muscles, sharp and harsh, glint in the shadows of the night. He walks on the balms of his feet, which more resemble eagle-like talons. His eyes are also fierce. Clear like glass, they seem to look straight through you. Fully erect, he stands just over eight feet tall. His claws resemble that of a preying mantis. Looking at Trista, he roars, "The Impossible lives. The Harbinger dies."

The demon takes a swipe at Trista and cuts a gash into her stomach. She falls with a scream to the floor. Spike then steps in, addresses the demon, "Shouldn't you be trying to kill blokes your own size?"

"I'll kill you all."

Trista looks up at the demon with pure terror in her eyes but soon the image becomes blurry. She's loosing a lot of blood. Spike takes a swing at the demon, but it swats him aside like a rag doll. He's dazed but not unconscious.

Willow, Sam and Chloe come rushing in. Willow holds them back and puts out her palm and screams, "Arripio!" A fierce red energy shoots from her hand and glues the demon in place. Willow screams to Trista, "What do we do!"

Trista, using all her strength, croaks, "Run. Grab all you can and **run**."

They do just that. Spike gathers Trista up in his arms and moves to the door as the demon roars and tries to pull himself free. Willow and Sam frantically gather up notes and books that were spread around the living room. Chloe runs to her room and grabs her secret stash of money and her checkbook. She's stuffing it in her pockets when she passes Trista's bedroom and sees the demon start to break free, his arms first. Chloe calls, "Uh, guys?"

Sam closes Chloe's laptop with a snap.

"GUYS!"

Before they can even react, Chloe comes sailing into the living room. Dazed, she says to them, "He's free".

Spike, still holding Trista, regards this in horror but then takes the lead, "Everyone, if you enjoy breathing, lets go!" He kicks out the door and they all move out, Willow and Sam helping Chloe along, as the demon comes, roaring, pissed.

They run as fast as they can down the hall, and into the elevator. The doors closing as the demon trundles down the hall. They are just closing when the demon rears back his fist. The doors close. But then, the demon punches the door, leaving a huge dent. The gang screams and falls to the floor.

On the street, Willow is first, Chloe and Sam in the middle, Spike, holding an unconscious Trista bringing up the rear. They're moving as fast as they can. Willow looks around and asks Chloe, "Do you guys have a car?" Chloe points across the street to a blue Jeep, "There."

They get in, Chloe driving, and speed off. Willow, in the back with Spike, is trying to quell the bleeding, "She needs a hospital." Sam looks to her and asks, "Can't you just like, you know, zap it?" Willow shoots a look at him, "I'm not a microwave. Health spells are dangerous. She needs a doctor."

Suddenly, Trista comes too and looks as if she's choking on something. She looks to Spike, who reacts, "Her pulse is speeding up." Willow, trying her best at calm, "She's going into hypovolemic shock. We need a doctor now."

Chloe's speeding down the highway, everyone's thoroughly wigging. Sam, in a state of misplaced freakdom, screams at Chloe, "You need to slow down! You'll kill us all."

Looking at Spike in the rearview mirror, she says, "Not us all."

Spike, cradling Trista like a baby, feels her pulse starting to slow and says to Willow, "Will. It's slowing down."

Trista is sweating and is very pale. She looks to Spike and barely musters, "Who…?" Willow tries to comfort her, "Shhh. It's okay. We'll get you a doctor. Everything is gonna be okay."

Chloe slows down and screams in frustration. She says in a very angry tone, "Traffic jam." Willow looks up, eyes black with cold, fierce anger and says to the traffic, "Move." Extra lanes seems to grow out of nowhere and the cars are moved to them. Chloe slams down on the accelerator and speeds off into the night.

"Oh god."

"What, Spike?"

"She's not breathing."


	4. Fic the Fourth: Two Newcomers and a Hosp

_It's three A.M. and we've been watching a lot of movies. David Bowie looks cool. Ludo. We had Pringles and marshmallows. Chloe got sick._**We need to get her to the ER…**_I can't see. **What's her name? Trista. **Where's my mom? No mom's dead. She died years ago. I'm running down the hill… all that blood. I can hear the sirens…_

It's so bright and sterile in the waiting room. Everyone is choked by the smell of ammonia and disinfectant. Chloe and Sam sit close together, Chloe lays her head on Sam's shoulder. Willow's talking to the nurse by the reception desk.

Chloe's still shell shocked. She hasn't said anything since they pulled up. They carried her in and got the gurney. Jesus, all that blood. They wouldn't let her go in with Trista and Chloe kept thinking how scared she must be without anyone there with her. Not that it matters if she… if she…

"I think," Sam begins in a hollow tone, "I think that people hate hospitals because… there's no good here."

Chloe glances at him and replies, though not believing what she says, "That's not true."

Over at the reception desk, Willow's finally speaking with the doctor. "She's lost a lot of blood but we did a transfusion and got her breathing again. We stitched up her abdomen with absorbable sutures. She should be okay in a month or so. If everything heals fine, she won't even need a follow up check."

"Good. Good. Thanks," says Willow as she nods, relieved. She moves to Chloe and Sam in the waiting room, who rise expectantly. Willow takes a deep breath and offers a smile when saying, "She's alive." Chloe and Sam sigh with relief as their emotional weight is lifted. Willow continues, "She should be okay. They have those stitches thingers that dissolve as the wound heals so--"

"Can we see her?" interjects Chloe. She almost instantly becomes self-conscious and asks again in a softer tone, "Can we?"

Willow glances at the reception desk but then nods, "Don't see why we can't. Where's Spike?"

Spike's in the men's bathroom on the fourth floor. He's been washing his hands for a half hour but he could still feel the blood. Her blood. He was just starting to be able to stand her and then… He shakes his head and continues scrubbing. _Why won't it come off?_ He thought of his coat. _Is it in the car? Oh, damn. It's still at the apartment._ He slams his hands into the sink violently, cracking the basin. _How the hell could I think of my bleedin coat at a time like this!_

"Hey."

Spike turns and sees Sam at the door. Spike regards him, annoyed, "What do you want, Nancy?"

"She's alive."

Chloe's hugging Trista, near tears. She smiles at Trista and whispers, "You're alive. You're alive…" Chloe lets her go and regains her composure, and shaking her head, says, "I hate this place. Does anyone else emphatically hate this place?"

Trista smiles at Chloe's remark. Trista's still pale and clammy but alive. She's weak and moving is somewhat an issue but alive. Trista, herself, is a bit surprised by that fact. The moment that demon cut into her, all she could think was, _"This is it. It's over."_ It never occurred to her that she might wake up. All she wanted was that the others survived. But, hey, she's not complaining. Dying? Not the thrill ride you'd expect. She replies to Chloe, "You're right," she continues in grave seriousness, "The food here sucks."

Sam enters, Spike in tow. Spike stops short and sees Trista. A wave of happiness comes over his features, but he gives way to being withdrawn and moves to a corner as Sam crosses to Trista and hugs her, "Hey, Sparky."

"Hey, Sam."

The Doctor enters with his clipboard and faux pleasantness. He smiles at Trista and says, "How are we doing tonight?"

"Like I had a near death experience but that's probably because I'm a complainer."

"I just wanted to check your fluids and your STATS."

"If I pass do I get a cookie?"

"Oh-kay. Speech is good…" he says as he checks off something on his clipboard. After he checks the IV levels he continues, "Let's check your pulse. Mmm-hmm. Pulse is strong, _very_ strong. Blood pressure… okay," he says as he pumps the blood pressure meter. He lets it go and it deflates with a hiss. He looks to Trista and smiles, "You're good. Now all you need to do is stay off your feet for a month or so."

"Sha. More like an hour or so."

"No. You don't understand. You physically can't--"

"Cut it open."

Getting impatient, the doctor sighs, "Cut what open?"

"My bandages. Open me up."

"I don't think--"

"I think you better do it, mate," Spike interrupts with his first words since he left the bathroom.

"Well-- I can't just-- Ah--" stutters the doctor before he gives up. He goes out and returns a few minutes later with a pair of scissors. He cuts the front of the heavy gauze bandages and carefully pulls them away and is shocked by what he sees.

"Oh. My. God."

The gash looks as if it underwent a month's worth of healing in a matter of hours. The doctor stares at the healed wound in utter disbelief. Trista rises and begins to dress, "I guess I'll be going now. Bill me."

"It's a miracle…"

"Erm. Yeah. Big spanking holier than thou miracle. Can you believe it? I can't. Gee," she looks to Willow and motions to the door. They all begin filing out. Trista first, Willow then Chloe and Sam, Spike brings up the rear.

In the hall, they walk briskly out. Willow says to Trista, "Um… we didn't give them any information. To, you know, bill you. It was so urgent, that we didn't give them the rest of the paperwork." Trista smiles at her and shrugs nonchalantly, "Well, damn." Behind them, they hear some security guards turn the corner. Trista's face drops slightly, "We better walk a little faster just in case."

As they move out, Chloe smiles and shakes her head, "Good as new."

They weren't sure where to go. The apartment wasn't safe, they knew that but where do they go now? Pulling up at a Motel 8, it was the general consensus that they were scraping the barrel but it'll do. A check in, two hotel rooms with a shared door, and a few ice buckets later, Trista's sleeping on the bed of the generic hotel room, with its loud floral print curtains and matching bed spreads. Willow's sitting with Spike, wondering what to do next.

In the next room, Chloe watches late night talk shows as she plays poker with Sam. Trista said they should take the night off, so that's what they'll do. _Just chill out tonight. There's gonna be all kinds of hell to battle tomorrow so tonight we should just relax._

Back in the other room, Willow pipes up to Spike, "We should call Giles."

"Giles?" Spike laughs, "Because Giles is the almighty book wielder."

"Well, we need books don't we? We have no idea what that big demon thing was and we're more likely to find out if we have the resources."

Spike hangs his head in thought. He knows she's right. He sighs and submits, "Fine. Make the call."

Willow smiles and, despite herself, gets a little rush from the authority she just had. She rises, "Good. Right. I'll make the call and you'll--"

Spike glares at her. Authority go bye bye.

"--just do whatever you want. It is night off after all."

Spike looks at the digital clock on the nightstand that reads 2:30 AM. He looks to Willow and says, "I don't know. Tonight seemed to be very on."

Willow goes to make the call, and Spike rises and goes to the other room, closing the door behind him. His eyes meet Chloe's.

"She's gonna call Giles."

Chloe nods and looks down at her cards. She looks back up at Spike, almost friendly, she says, "Wanna play?"

Spike considers and shrugs. As he sits he says, "Nothing better to do is there?"

Sam deals him in. They play silently for a few seconds.

"Bollocks," says Spike angrily, dropping his cards.

"Nice poker face there, Spike," Sam says.

"Hey, Nancy, why don't you go bake a tasty soufflé before I rip out your throat."

"Eh, go head butt the sidewalk, Sid," retorts Chloe, not looking up from her cards, "You gonna fold?"

Spike takes another look at his cards and sighs, "Yeah. What'd you mean by that?"

"By what?"

"You called him Sid," Sam replies. He looks at his cards and then at Chloe, "Anymore cards?"

"Nah," she puts down her cards and continues to Spike, "You know, late 70's, bassist, funky junkie. I don't know, I just get that Sid vibe from you."

They continue to play in silence for a bit. Sam deals as Chloe leans back and grabs a pack of her cigarettes and lights one. She glances at Spike and offers him a smoke. Spike takes it and lights, taking a long drag. He relaxes some and thinks, "She's not so bad after all."

Willow comes in, a little upset. She looks to Spike and says, "I couldn't reach him. I kept getting a busy signal."

Spike shrugs and leaning back says, "Guess best thing to do is wait till tomorrow."

"Wanna play?" asks Chloe.

"I don't--" she begins apprehensively.

"Eh, lighten up, Red. There's nothing you can do till tomorrow anyway," interjects Spike.

Willow gives in and sits saying, "Okay. But only for a little while."

Sam deals her in and they play.

Trista wakes quietly. She turns over and silently cringes. She touches her lower back and groans, "Damn hotel beds." She looks around and blinks. The room is empty and is bathed in a blue hue. It's just before sunrise. She rises and walks on her tiptoes to the bathroom. She goes to the sink and runs the water. After patting her face with water, she turns on the shower.

In the shower, the sound of the water falling is amplified ten times. She wets her hair and, while closing her eyes, moans with relief, "Mmmm." She looks down to her stomach and watches the water bounce off of her mostly healed wound. She stares at it for a second, transfixed with the small beads hitting, bouncing, falling, hitting, bouncing, falling. She shakes it off and continues with her shower.

Trista saunters into the hotel room from hers in a stiff white bathrobe, drying her hair with a towel. She smiles slightly at the scene she takes in. Chloe and Willow are asleep on one bed, Sam's sprawled on the floor near an empty pizza box, and Spike's asleep sans coat on the bed closest to the window. It's adorable. Suddenly Trista's face drops and she gasps, "Oh, Jesus."

She sprints to the window, stepping on Sam's stomach in the process, and closes the window as the sunlight just starts to hit Spike's face. Spike clasps his hands over his face and, flipping off the bed, screams, "Bloody hell!" waking Chloe and Willow up.

"My face! Bollocks! Bleedin sunlight…"

Trista grins, "Eh, buck up, bub. At least you didn't die."

Sam, walking towards the mini-fridge stiffly to get ice, croaks, "We should all be so lucky."

Trista goes to him in a sugary sweet voice, "Oooooh, Sammy. Did I get you in the tummy?"

"Condescension can wait, you violent nudist."

Completely bemused, Trista begins, "Vio- who?" getting it she looks at her robe, "Oohh." She smacks him in the back of the head and moves to the other room, closing the door behind her. As she dresses, she calls to the gang, "We should get down to the apartment. Salvage what we can."

"Unce-unce-unce-unce-unce-unce-unce-unce!"

Techno music's blaring and Trista seems to be uncing along with the beat as she drives in the jeep that has its windows recently spray painted black. Chloe, in the passenger seat, and Spike, in the back by Sam and Willow, both lunge for the radio to turn it off.

"Hey now! Seatbelt! Seatbelt!" yells Trista to Spike.

"Because that makes sense for the only one in the bloody car who won't die to be bound to the seat," retorts Spike.

"One, it's the law and I don't want a ticket and two, do you want to get flung from the car if we hit something? It is a bit flammable out today."

They drive in silence for a minute. Sam puts his hand down too close to Spike, and Spike pushes him, "Stay on your side, you bloody poof."

"Not a poof," says Chloe, without looking back.

Spike and Sam start to push each other, not unlike two nine-year-old boys. Trista, the mom at the moment, yells, "Hey! You two settle down or I'll beat you to death with your own obnoxiousness."

Sam begins, "How can you," he stops short, feeling the daggers coming at him through the rearview mirror.

After a moment, the earth rumbles and then shakes into another earthquake. It causes the cars in front of Trista to swerve and hit each other. She has to do a sharp turn to avoid the collision and to avoid hitting another car. Everyone sits in shocked silence.

They enter the lobby, Spike under a large, smoking blanket, and notice the elevator they came out of last night. It has a big "Out of Order" sign hung on it. They keep walking and go into the second elevator. Chloe and Trista share a look as the doors close with a ding. Spike starts to rear back, ducking from the light, but all the windows are covered with tarp.

Walking down the hall, Chloe's running off the list of things they need to get, "Okay, so clothes, food, I already got money, did we get all the books? If we didn't we need those." They pass construction posts and yellow police tape. There are no people on the floor, it's essentially abandoned.

They turn to the door. Instinctively, Trista reaches for her keys but stops. The door, barely hanging on its hinges, is on its last leg. Spike reaches from behind her, and pushes the door down with his index finger. It falls with a crash into the completely ransacked apartment.

Chloe continues, "We should get our cell phones, and I guess basically we should just fan out and grab what inspires," she stops and sees that no one is looking or listening to her. She follows their gazes to see a man sitting on one of their chairs going through some other older tomes. She has no idea who he is. He's older with a subtle confident charm about him that's emphasized by the glasses.

"Hey Giles," is all Trista can muster.

After warm greetings, awkward introductions and equally awkward reacquainting, Giles sits with Willow and Spike as the others pack.

Giles smiles at Willow and says, "How have you been?"

"Oh, okay. Kennedy and I are really acclimating well. But then things got a little ishy when the whole slayer thing happened," she pauses, welling with guilt, "Gee, I seem to be able to destroy the world even when I don't try."

"Oh, come on now, Willow. It wasn't your fault. We all did it and besides it's not as if it isn't a fixable dilemma."

"Is it? Plan A is on the 'fin' side of 'ito' and Plan B is being chased by a big--"

She's cut off by Chloe's screams.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

Everyone rushes into the back bathroom to find Chloe using a tissue box to beat the cheese out of--

"Andrew!" yells Willow.

--who has his foot stuck in the toilet. Trista calms Chloe and looks to Andrew, "What the hell."

Giles takes off his glasses and, closing his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, "Andrew, what happened?"

"Well, see what happened. Well, so I had to-- and well, I popped in to the 'loo'," he says using quote marks and continues, "and my shoe, it got stuck and I would've called for help but I thought," he pulls at his stuck leg, "I could handle it," he attempts to pull again but no dice.

"Huh. Apparently not," says Trista shortly. She goes to Andrew and yanks his foot out. He cringes in pain.

"Ow. Ow. Ow," he does a cutsey wave to Spike, "Hi, Spike. Ow. Ow. Ow."

Trista, getting impatient, heads out calling over her shoulder, "Can we get back to the freaking life or death situation?"

Everyone sighs and shakes their heads at Andrew as they file out, Spike and Andrew last.

"You don't think I'm less of a man now, do you, Spike?"

"Trust me, Andrew. There's no possible way that could happen."

In the diner, dishes clank and clutter with the work of a normal day. Willow, Giles, Spike, Trista, Andrew, Chloe, and Sam sit in the big booth in the corner of the diner. The expressions are grave as they look in one of Giles's texts at an intimidating sketch of the demon they encountered the other night.

"Avachius," says Giles.

"Avachius," repeats Trista as she stares at the picture, "That's him."

Andrew takes the floor, touching his fingertips together, being as Watcherly as possible, "Yes. Yes. Avachius second cousin to Alastor. Deadly sort. Risen from the very pits of hell to serve the forces of… hell. They're the nasty assassin type and not very," he's forced to pause because a biscuit was thrown at his head. Chloe does her best to look innocent as Andrew launches from Watcher to whiner, "You know, I do all this research and what do I get?"

"Your foot stuck in a toilet?" inquires Chloe.

"No appreciation?" asks Sam.

"Small pox?" grins Trista.

"I get breads thrown at me! That's what!" he turns to Giles, "Gi-i-les! Tell them to not throw things at me."

"Andrew, if you do not continue, I'll be inclined to throw something quite heavy at you also."

"Fine. Fine," says Andrew dramatically waiving his hand. He regains his composure and fingertip touching before he continues, "While very deadly and strong. The Avachi are able to track very well and also aren't very discreet about their attacks."

"Well, if that's true," asks Trista, "then why hasn't he attacked yet?"

Andrew sighs dramatically and replies gravely, "He's waiting. Watching. Getting ready for his time."

"He also only attacks at night," says Willow, who's been skimming Giles's book. She continues, "Says here that he does special rituals before he attacks. He also waits for the first full moon after the initial battle to ensure luck."

"Well, we should be okay till the next full moon, right? Give us time to build up forces, yeah?" says Spike.

"Depends on when the next full moon is," replies Trista, "When is that?"

"Tomorrow night," says Giles, cleaning his glasses.

Spike takes this in and casually replies, "Oh, never mind. We're screwed."

Suddenly, a violent earthquake hits, causing everything in the diner to not only shudder but thrash. This one is bigger than any of the others. Trista covers her head and, in the process, buries her face into Spike's chest. Instinctively, he covers her, protects her. It's over as quick as it started. The people in the diner are all freaking out, trading off "Oh, Jesus!" and "What the hell was that!"

Everyone looks at each other, gravely. Spike offers, "Right. There's also an apocalypse. We're definitely screwed."

"It does seem that Big Bertha Earth is on her breaking point," says Sam, as he looks around with a mix of stunned and worried plastered on his face.

"Um, Trista?" begins Willow, "Not to be the big bad news bearer person guy, but I was reading while we were still at the apartment and, well, the ritual we need to do, it requires a sacrifice."

"Like a goat?" asks Sam.

"No, not a goat. Something big."

"Big," repeats Trista, this is all getting too much for her.

"Like, if-we-could-sacrifice-humans big. Maybe bigger."

The gang starts to freak out. They're asking questions a mile a minute. Trista turns away and thinks as she looks out the window, trying to tune out her own fear. She sees the people, recovering from the blast, crossing the street, helping each other up, crossing the cross walks and inspiration hits, the general takes over. She addresses the group, "No. No, we're not screwed. If we work quick enough, we can be the opposite polar extreme of screwed. Here's what we're gonna do."


	5. Fic the 5th: Balance, Death & Apocalypse

"Oh, Jesus!"

"Get the fire extinguisher!"

Chloe sprints for the fire extinguisher as Sam tries to smother the fire with a towel. Slightly jumping and twisting his hands, Andrew says over and over, "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry."

With the fire extinguished, Trista turns to Andrew and says, "This is a hotel room. There is, in fact, no object that can make fire. How the hell did you set the dresser aflame, Andrew?"

"Well, see what happened was, well, to be smooth and suave takes, you know, primping. Both spiritually and physically so I burn incense to, cleanse…" he trails of, seeing the futility of his explanation. He smiles weakly and says, "I'll just clean it up."

Glaring, Trista says, "You go do that."

Just then, Spike comes in, carrying a six-pack of beer. He instantly crinkles his nose and says, "What is that smell?" Without a word, Trista grabs a beer, twists the cap off, grabs Spike's arm and they leave.

After taking a deep swig, Trista addresses Spike, "Sorry. I just had to get out of there. The little bastard set the freaking dresser on fire. On fire!"

Spike smiles at her and offers, "Want me to kill him?"

"Nah. I think I need him."

They smile at each other and continue to walk. After a few moments of silence, Spike asks, "What exactly are you looking to do, love?"

She shrugs. She stops to answer her ringing cell phone, "Willow?"

Willow hangs up the pay phone and moves deeper into the airport. She gets as far as she can and waits near security. She checks her watch and looks anxiously as passengers start to come out of the gates. After a few minutes, she sees a head of blonde bobbing through the crowd. Willow smiles.

It was a long flight and very rushed. No sooner did she get the call, was she in flight on an intricate flight plan that ensured a connection through Boston. The doubling back really wasn't fun and added on an hour to her flight. She's been awake for the past 24 hours and it seems that her flight buddy has too.

Willow watches as Buffy and Faith walk out to the terminal. They're both jet lagged, Faith's wearing dark sunglasses, and both are holding carry on duffle bags. Even though they seem the same as every other person around them, their inner power seems to make everything slow down. These girls aren't just powerful. They are power.

Buffy drops her bag and, smiling, hugs Willow. Faith does a half waive and says, "Hey, Will."

"Hi, Faith," she looks to Buffy and continues, "Buffy! How was your flight?"

"S'good. They had those little bags of the little peanuts."

"You love those!"

"Indeed I do."

Faith walks between them, saying, "Shall we then."

Buffy puts her arm through Willow's and says, "We shall then. So what's the what?"

"Apocalypse."

"Well, yeah. What else would it be?" she shrugs half-heartedly and continues, "At least it's not a first evil sleeper agent big badness apocalyptic melee. Just a good old wiccy magic slice and dice deal, right?"

"Heavy on the slice. Did Giles tell you about Trista?"

"Who?"

Spike and Trista walk back into the hotel room, laughing together. They stop to see everyone, Giles, Andrew, Sam, Chloe, and Willow, sitting or leaning in a loose circle around Faith and Buffy. They all look at Spike and Trista, who are instantly uncomfortable. Spike looks at Buffy. She's staring at him with an unreadable expression. Her head is cocked, her mouth is slightly open, and her eyes are welling with tears. She regains her composure and greets him, "Spike."

He barely nods in shocked greeting, "Buffy."

Trista looks at them both, back and forth. She thinks, _"Of course. Stupid Trista."_ She shakes her head and speaks up, taking the lead. She addresses Faith and Buffy, "Glad that you're here. Now we can really get started," she pauses as she moves to a chair in the corner and deliberately avoids Spike's eye contact as she does. She continues, "So, tomorrow night's the full moon. You know what else it is? The apocalypse. We're suiting up, we're taking-- Buffy?"

Everyone looks to Buffy, who's raising her hand. Buffy says, "Are we sure?"

"Giles checked it out."

"All of it? I mean, wasn't there a fact check problem last time?"

"Well, yeah but he checked it out. A few times."

Faith grins at Trista and says, "B has problems with staying in the backseat."

Buffy smiles self-consciously and says, "Sorry."

"Just so we're clear," begins Trista, "The plan's changed a bit, but the premise is still the same, seven girls are going to be involved in the ritual itself but instead of it being six teenage slayers and myself, Buffy and Faith are in it now. It still equals out the same."

Trista checks her watch and looks to Chloe and Sam, "Bus station?"

Chloe checks Sam's watch and sees that they need to leave. As Chloe passes, she says, "We're on it." and gives Trista a "good luck" look.

Trista continues, "When they get back, we need to be ready to leave," she addresses Buffy and Faith, "Did Willow fill you guys in?"

They nod. Buffy says, "The general stuff. Apocalypse. Demon. Queens. The et's have been ceteraed."

Trista nods and continues, "There's jobs for everyone, and we need to get it done tonight."

Faith, sporting a bandage wrapped around her left hand, walks into the crowded nightclub and takes in the pulsating techno and the flashing lights. She pauses a minute to let her eyes adjust and then she moves to the dance floor. She grooves to the beat and starts dancing with a cute guy and then two cute guys… and then three cute guys.

After the song ends, Faith moves to the bar. She doesn't notice that the guys follow her. Faith passes the bar and goes into a back room. It's empty but it's clear that people hang back here. The room is dark and has many sofas and some areas sectioned off with ratty curtains. There's a low coffee table in front of one of the sofas. Faith looks around in disgust. This room reminds her a lot of the one she was in a year ago. The smell, the noises, the junkies.

The three guys file in behind her, grinning wickedly. Faith turns around and grins invitingly. She says, "So. Which one of you is Luke?" None of them answer. They just drink her in with their eyes. All three of them morph into vampface and one of them takes the first step forward. Faith grins and says to herself, "Luke."

She grabs a low pipe and flings her legs up and, in a half circle motion, kicks them all in their faces. They growl at her angrily. She dropkicks VampOne in the face. Almost instantaneously, she elbows VampTwo in the face. She uppercuts VampOne and sends him down momentarily. She pushes VampTwo across the room and grabs Luke. She growls, "Stick around." She elbows him in the face, knees him three times in the chest and once in the face. He's out. VampOne comes at her, she pushes him away with her foot, causing him to flip over a sofa. VampTwo is back up and comes at her from behind. She flips him over her and, locking his arm, slams him into the wall. And again. And again. And again. She flings him away, causing him to spin and slam his back into the wall. Faith walks over to the coffee table and slams her fist down into it. Time seems to slow down. It breaks and she pulls up a jagged shard of wood. VampOne flips back over the sofa. Faith rears back her fist and it's like time speeds back up. Her fist connects and, as he falls back, VampTwo comes at her. Faith stakes him hard and, in the same swift motion, stakes VampOne.

She turns over to Luke who is just coming to. She picks him up and slams him into the wall. She holds him there as she speaks to him, "Hi. I'm in a hurry and I was wondering if you could be a sweetie and help me out."

"Go to hell."

She hits him hard, causing him to spin onto the floor again. She slams him back onto the wall and says, "Look. You've got a choice here. You take me to the boss," she thrusts her thumb into his eye, enough to hurt but not enough for it to pop, "Or, well, I'm gonna rip your eyes out."

Luke, still rubbing his eye, leads Faith into yet another back room. In the room, there's a gigantic cherry wood desk. The large leather chair spins around to show a deep-blue demon. He's about six feet tall, and has three horns on his head. The middle one is a bit bigger than the other two and it sort of an off gray.

"And what do you want?"

Faith grins at him. She takes the stake that she's still holding, slams it into Luke's heart and leaves it there. He's dust. She then whips out a dagger and says matter-of-factly, "That horn." She charges him.

"It's really cold. Super cold in point of fact. I might only have four fingers at this point but I wouldn't know because my hands are really, really numb."

"Shut up, Sam."

Chloe looks out down the road expectantly. She rubs her hands together and blows into them. They've been waiting at the bus station for close to an hour.

"How long do we have to wait?"

Chloe checks her watch and sighs, "Until the bus shows up, I guess."

"Oh."

Chloe looks at him and asks, "What? Do you want to leave?"

Sam replies, "Breaking news from Duh, USA. Of course I want to leave!" he shakes his head and continues with some solemnity, "But I'm not going to. I signed up."

Chloe smiles at him and then looks down the street again. She says, "You scared?"

"Terrified. You?"

"Senseless." She looks at Sam with a fear in her eyes that hasn't been seen before. Tears well up in her eyes and she says in a cracking voice, "Sam. I don't want to die."

Sam takes his baby sister into his arms and whispers, "You're not gonna die."

"And I don't want you to die!" she cries.

Sam makes her look at him. He says with authority, "I'm not gonna die either."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Suddenly, harsh headlights come streaming down the street, lighting the way for the large charter bus. Sam and Chloe part. Chloe wipes away her tears hastily. Sam looks to the bus and sighs, "We're up."

Buffy sits on the chair in the hotel room lost in thought. She stares at the instant hot chocolate in the Styrofoam hotel cup that contains it. She doesn't know what she's thinking. She doesn't know what to think. Before she can even form a coherent thought, Spike comes in. He stops slightly and thinks a moment that he should turn back. He changes his mind and moves forward, hastily looking for Trista's dagger. Buffy steals a glance at him at the same time he steals one at her. They both avert their eyes.

Spike finds the dagger and goes to leave after a last glance at Buffy. He's halfway to the doorknob when Buffy pipes up in a slightly shaky tone, "I missed you." Spike lets go of the door. He knew this was coming. He turns around and sighs, "Yeah." He goes and sits on the bed by her, yet still keeps his distance.

Buffy looks down at her feet and says, "It's so strange. First you're here and then you're gone and then you're-- it's all so… I don't have the words." Spike just watches her. He doesn't have any words either. They sit there staring at anywhere but each other for a moment before Spike, with a bit of animosity, says, "How's The Immortal?"

Buffy smiles ruefully and sadly before replying, "Mortal. He was into some dirty dealings. He got the side of the axe that is all glinty when you put it up to the light."

Spike smiles slightly at the idea of the Immortal get axed but looks up to see that Buffy isn't smiling anymore. In an infinitely gentle tone, Spike says to her, "What do you need, love?"

"Closure," she says in a soft tone before pauses to collect her thoughts before she continues, "When you died that was, well, it was pretty closey but now I just don't-- It won't work."

Spike closes his eyes and makes a decision. He comes closer to Buffy so he can face her better. He speaks to her as if he's calm and fine, when he's really being torn up inside. He says, "No. It won't. It never could and it never will. And that's okay."

Buffy, crying slightly now, chokes, "It's hard."

"I know."

"How can you? I don't even know. I'm not sure what I'm feeling and it's really, really confusing."

"It is. That's what makes it all poetic and Shakespearean, love. Buffy, I'm not the right person for you. I'm not even a person. You need to go out and find the right guy," he stops because she looked away from him. He makes her make eye contact again, "But just remember that I will always love you. And that if that little bollocks hurts you, I'll rip his throat out."

Buffy laughs slightly and wipes away her tears. Spike smiles at her comfortingly. He glances towards the table and sees something behind the curtain. He goes over and looks. It's the dagger he was looking for. He picks it up and nods at Buffy as if to say "bye" and leaves.

Once in the hall, Spike nearly breaks down. Tears well up in his eyes as he clenches his fists and his jaw to keep himself from crying. He hits the back of his head onto the wall as he leans there for a moment. He knew he had to do it. He had to help her forget. He didn't want her to forget. But she has to if she really wants a normal life. Spike stands there in the hall, leaning on the wall. Alone.

Trista, sporting a bandage on her left hand, and Willow are packing up the gang's stuff and putting them into duffle bags. Trista says, "Okay, so once Sam and Chloe are back we're gonna go."

"Okay," says Willow in a slightly worried tone.

"What's up?"

Willow shrugs, "I guess I'm just worried. It all seems to make sense but we have no basis that says--"

"That if we make one, it'll work. I know. We just have to believe in it I guess."

Willow nods. She smiles at Trista and says, "You're doing a good job, you know."

"I'm not doing any more than you guys. This all full of ensemble-y goodness."

Just then, Andrew comes in with Giles. He asks Trista tentatively, "You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah," says Trista. Willow gets the picture and quietly leaves into the hall. Trista looks at Andrew gravely. She takes a deep breath and says, "We need to talk, Andrew."

Giles leaves the room by way of the adjacent hotel room. He sees Buffy still sitting where Spike left her. Giles goes to her and Buffy smiles at him. He kisses her lightly on the head and sits by her.

"How are you?"

"Okay, I guess. This is all so weird. I get a year of essential normalcy and I'm right back where I started, only not. I've never been the Not-General. It feels weird."

"A bad weird?"

"I don't know. I think it's kind of a mix between a good and bad. I don't have to worry about all the leader-y type brouhahas that come with it, but I don't like not knowing what's going to happen."

Giles smiles at her. It still amazes him how far she's come. He can still remember when she was a young sixteen year old. He can still remember first meeting her. His little Buffy is all grown up.

"I missed you, Giles. It's been forever since we've sat. Just sat. You know, with the sitting."

Giles nods, "Yes. It has. Maybe--"

Faith enters, dirty and bloody, but with the horn. She walks to the table, energized. She throws it onto the table with a thunk. She looks to Giles and says, "Got your horn."

"Good. Good. Thank you, Faith."

Faith nods and says as she flexes her shoulder, "Damn. They sure did put up a fight. I think I'm gonna shower."

Buffy says, playfully, "I think I'm gonna insist."

Faith grins slightly at Buffy and moves off to the bathroom and Giles goes to the horn and starts cleaning it off with a handkerchief. Buffy says, "Maybe…"

"Sorry?"

"You were in the middle of a proposal of the maybe variety."

Giles puts down the horn and turns to Buffy and says, "Oh. Right. Well, I thought that maybe after this is all over you and Willow and I could go and eat. Maybe catch up some."

Buffy gets up and goes to the table by Giles and says, "Sure. Sounds good." Giles smiles and then picks up a vicious looking dagger. By the look on his face, there's no doubt that the dagger is intended to be used on Buffy.

The water in the sink runs and turns a sickly red as a stone faced Giles washes his dagger. The blood mixes with the water and swirls down the drain. Once clean, Giles dries it with a towel. Giles looks up into the mirror and hears Trista call, "Giles?" Giles picks up the dagger and moves into the room.

Trista turns to him and smiles, "Hey. I want you to introduce you to the new guys."

"Yes. Yes, of course."

Trista sees the dagger and says, "You want me to pack that up for you?"

Giles, looks at it and smiles. He says as he hands it to her, "If you don't mind."

"Not at all," she moves to the other room as she continues, "Come on."

They move into the next room to find five new teenage girls along with the entire gang, including Spike, Buffy, now with a bandaged hand, Sam and Chloe. Chloe says, "This is Hannah, Caitlyn, Lindsay and Megan." The four girls, still pretty self conscious and nervous, barely murmur "hi".

Trista says to Giles, "These are the four that are going to be doing the ritual with us," she looks to everyone and sighs, "You guys ready?"

Everyone nods in general assent and they head out.

In Queens, Trista sent Willow and Giles off to find the temple as Chloe and Sam occupied the girls. Trista walks into the dark magic shop, while on her cell phone.

"Andrew, I swear it's gonna be fine. Yes! I promise it will," she sighs and puts her hand on her forehead, "Put Spike on. Hey, Spike. Yes, I know he's a-- I'm aware of that, Spike. Dude, you're over 100! Freaking act like it!" She hangs up, but smiles despite herself as she moves deeper in the shop.

The shopkeeper, a gothic woman of about thirty, watches Trista intently. She cranes her neck with an amused grin on her face to see Trista better as she turns the corner.

Trista goes deeper and looks at an old spell book with a smile still plastered on her face. She can't take her mind of Spike. _He's so funny, and sharp, and nice. And, oh god, the accent. He's so--_

"You really like him, huh?"

Startled, Trista spins around to find the shopkeeper leaning on one of the bookshelves. Trista collects herself and says, "Oh. Hi. Um, I just need to find a book. _Bronsum's Blood Rights and Ritualistic Bleeding_. Not to buy it or anything, just check some--"

"Does he know how much you like him?"

"What?"

"Spike. Does he know?"

"Do you know Spike?"

The shopkeeper smiles and says, "Nope."

Trista's starting to get creeped out. She starts to move to the door but the shopkeeper calls after her, "Trista!" Her tone is what stops Trista. She sounds frightened, frantic. Trista turns around and waits expectantly.

"You care about him, right? Then you need to save him."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Have you been listening? Spike. I'm talking about Spike. He's in danger."

Trista doesn't know what to say but she's trying not to believe her. Random people don't just know things like that. How can she even know what she's talking about?

"I don't believe you," says Trista confidently, "You can't just tell me that and expect me--"

"I could show you," says the shopkeeper. She sounds extremely desperate to help, if not even a little afraid.

"How?"

"Come here."

Trista warily approaches the shopkeeper. She smiles at Trista in says, "It's okay. I don't bite… unless asked to." The shopkeeper closes her eyes and starts to mumble something that Trista doesn't hear and then puts the tips of her fingers on Trista's temples.

The minute the fingers connect with Trista's temple, Trista is wracked with pain. She experiences visions not unlike Doyle's and Cordelia's. The person in the vision is Spike. He walks to Trista's grave at night. He walks through life alone long after everyone he knows has died. He's fighting with a demon, stabs him with a dagger with a green blade. Spike is infected with a poison. He lies in a ratty motel dying, scared and alone. Trista can't take it, she starts crying. It hurts her physically but it also hurts her heart. She doesn't want that for Spike. She doesn't want that for anyone. She also sees people. People that Spike could've saved if he hadn't died. There's so much death. So much destruction.

The shopkeeper let's go of her. Trista falls to the ground, unable to control her crying. She's mumbling under her breath, "No. No. No. No…" The shopkeeper kneels in front of her and says quietly, "It's been prophesized. It kick starts hundred years of torment. You need to stop it."

Trista looks up at her, scared and vulnerable and asks, "How?"

Andrew walks, scared and upset. He seems to be lost. It's so dark here that he can't even see. He clutches his thermos tightly and looks around. He says to himself, "I am a warrior. I am Andrew. I'm not afraid of the dark. I'm not-- GYEHHH!" Andrew screams like a crazy girl as Avachius jumps out in front of him, his sharp muscles flexing in the night.

"And so this night begins. And so this life ends," growls Avachius. He hits Andrew causing him to fly back twenty feet. Andrew crawls and grabs his thermos, clutches it to his chest. He stares up at Avachius as he comes upon him. Andrew almost whispers, slightly amazed at himself, "Got you."

He then uncaps the thermos and courage explodes in him. Andrew, for reasons unknown to him, found a heroic bravery inside him that no one knew existed. He flings the contents of the thermos onto Avachius. It's blood. Andrew screams insanely and, pulling the horn Faith got out of his back pocket, slams it into Avachius's side. Avachius screams in pain and hits Andrew, sending him flying across the room. Andrew, dazed but conscious, smiles for himself.

As Buffy, Spike and Faith run out of the darkness towards Avachius, Andrew remembers how afraid he was earlier this morning. It was hard enough to watch Giles take blood from the girls but it was necessary. Trista said that you need blood from all the girls for the new Slayer line to make it work. He remembers thinking that he didn't know why she wanted him to put it on the sacrifice, but he realized it now. It needed to be him. He needed it to be him. "_You can do this Andrew. It's right for you. You won't let me down."_

Trista walks with purpose down the street, as her cell phone rings. She answers it with a snap, "What."

"Turn around now," growls Lorne through the phone, "I don't care what she told you but you need to not go do anything stupid."

Trista stops and asks, "How'd you know?"

"Hello? Empath demon? Knows all through the beauty of song."

"Spike's going to die, Lorne."

"We all die someday! One person tells you one thing and you're all Jack Nicholson in the end of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest! Just because you think--"

"I don't think! I know! I can feel it! I'm scared, Lorne. Yes, we all die but not in pain, afraid and alone. That's not how it should be!"

"Tris, you--"

"_If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?_" sings Trista, as she begins to cry, "_I must be travelin on now. Too many places I got to see…_"

A wave of shock and fear comes over Lorne. He's about to freak out and he knows that, no matter what, he can't do anything about what's about to happen. He wants to say something but can't find the words. It's too late. Trista's already hung up on him.

She reaches her destination, an old bookstore. She goes in and makes a beeline for the back. She reaches the back room and walks in to find a beautiful man of about forty. He has shaggy brown hair and piercing green eyes. He looks at her but makes no attempt to rise.

"Can I help you?"

"That's what I've been told."

Buffy, Spike and Faith attack Avachius, he's not buckling because, hey, he's strong. After taking a particular brutal punch to the jaw, Spike screams, "Where the hell is Trista?"

Faith, as she punches Avachius, screams, "Don't. Know!"

"What if she doesn't show?"

"We have her blood," Buffy screams, "It'll be enough."

They continue to fight Avachius, mostly ducking and trying to push him back. When they get him to back up about five feet, Spike runs away as he hears Giles scream in the darkness, "NOW!"

In a swift chorus, torches that line the room light themselves. Willow comes towards the middle of the room, towards Avachius, chanting. Her eyes are black and her palms are out. The light from the torches brightens the room intensely. We can now see where they are. They are underground in what looks like a primitive temple. This is the temple. This is our temple.

"Bring forth that which must be cloned," chants Willow.

"Bring forth ever lasting," chants Giles, coming from behind Willow holding a book.

Chloe and Sam come up also. They each have a vase of thick liquid, terrified, they both circle around the girls and Avachius, pouring the ceremonial liquid. They also chant repeatedly, "Nowhere to nowhere. Everywhere to everywhere. All to all."

"Take what's given through sacrifice," continues Willow with authority.

"Give us the power of what we seek. Give us life through death," overlaps Giles.

"Open! NOW!" screams Willow to the ceiling.

Above them, light energy becomes fused as Avachius is also fused to his spot. Spike backs off as Faith, Buffy and the girls all circle around Avachius. They unbandage their left hands and, in an almost trance like state, raise their left hands, revealing a symbol that was carved into them when they were bled. It's clear now what Avachius is standing in: A crossroads, not unlike a four-way intersection. It was drawn on with paint and lined with sacred stones. The light energy above them starts to become a bright, beautiful gold ball, not unlike the sun. It spins and writhes above them, alive and powerful with the lives of all the Slayers in the world. As Willow chants, Trista's voice rings in her ears.

"_Crossroads are tricky things. They're neither one place nor another. They're everywhere yet nowhere…"_

Trista's eyes are closed and the man whispers into her ear. He whispers and then morphs into vamp face. She looks at him in fear. She knows what's really going on, but this feels so real. He digs his teeth into her neck.

"_In a crossroads, anything is possible because the space is nothing. Demons can possess you in a crossroads…"_

Trista screams almost silently. No one can hear her.

Willow starts to rise as she continues to chant as an energy very similar to the above starts to emanate from her chest. It snakes up from her chest and connects it to the slayers. For this moment, they are all fused. The horn on Avachius starts to glow as grey light comes from it, crackling up Avachius's body. He opens his mouth to scream but it silenced as the energy shoots from his mouth into the gold ball.

"_People can find you, people can loose you. That's the point. If we make it to this point, if we can make our own crossing that can effectively be nowhere, as all crossroads are, then we can make these Seven and we can save the world."_

The girls are all glowing blue. The energy starts to ball above them, like the gold. A stream of light comes from the gold one, causing the blue to grow bigger and turn green. It writhes and spins with the power of these seven women. Buffy, Faith, Trista, Hannah, Caitlyn, Lindsay and Megan, all Chosen again. Chosen to be the Seven that will protect the world. Chosen to be the Ones that fight. Chosen to be the Ones that die so the world may live.

Trista can feel them, as she glows also but it's fleeting as this vampire drains the life from her. He lets her go and slits his wrist and she drinks. She drinks deep and let's go, gasping for air. Her eyes become glassy and she dies.


	6. Fic the Sixth: Loss

In the temple, all is silent. Everyone stands in the almost pitch black temple just staring at the pile of ash where Avachius used to be. No one knows what to say. Is there anything to say? Buffy, Faith and the girls can still feel the power's presence even though they can't see it anymore.  
Buffy asks expectantly, "Willow?"  
Willow's eyes are closed and she's breathing hard. She relaxes some and says, "It's okay. We're good. It's over."  
Everyone can feel the stability of the Earth. It's safe again. Avachius's ash is suddenly caught up in what looks like a tornado. It sucks up towards the ceiling and disappears.  
After another moment, Sam, with a self-satisfied grin says, "So. Chinese?"  
In China Wok, the gang sits around a large table, drinking and eating.  
"Here's to saving the world!" says Chloe as the gang toasts to their victory.   
Everyone is essentially jovial but there's uneasiness because of Trista being missing.  
"So, what should we do?" asks Sam after a moment, "Should we, like, form a search party?"  
"Not yet," begins Buffy, "She might be fine. If she's okay, then she'll come back to hotel."  
"And if she's not?" says Spike in a harsher tone than intended.  
"She's a Slayer. She'll be okay," says Faith as she chews through her tempura chicken.  
"Hey, did you guys see the part where I stabbed him?"  
"Yes, Andrew," they all say in unison.  
"Well, I do have to say we did do a bloody good job," says Giles.  
"Here, here!" says Sam as he takes a swig of his root beer.

Still in the back room, Trista's sprawled out on the ground, her eyes glossy and lifeless. Suddenly, she gasps for air as she springs to life. She starts coughing, and she looks around frantically trying to remember where she is.  
"Spike," she remembers, "I have to get to Spike."  
She rises and goes towards the door before something stops her. She turns around to see a previously unnoticed young girl of about sixteen gagged and bound in the far corner, whimpering. She cautiously walks over to her, and when she gets about three feet from her, she gets on her knees and crawls. She brushes hair out of the crying girl's face like a child that just found a stray puppy.  
"Are you scared?" asks Trista.  
The girl nods and Trista nods understandingly. Trista pulls the gag down around the girl's neck. The girl gasps, "Thank you."  
Up until now, she has seemed like the same old Trista, warm and heroic. But something dies in her. Her eyes go cold and she asks the girl nonchalantly, "Sweetie, are you a screamer?"  
Startled, the girl asks, "What?"  
Trista just smiles at her and then morphs into vamp face. She digs her teeth into the girl's neck. The girl goes rigid and gasps and whimpers in pain, but this only makes Trista tighten her grasp. There is a sickening crack as Trista's grip crushes the girl's arm. The girl screams in pain. Trista lets go of the girl, satisfied. She looks down at the girl and smiles. She brushes hair out of her face again and says, "There, there, sweetie. I know how hard it is to be a teenager and feel like you're all alone. But it'll pass. Or you'll die. Whichever."  
Trista licks her fingers and rises to find the man of forty that she met last night, we'll call him Damian. Damian is very intrigued by Trista. He can see, as any could, the amazing, grotesque beauty that Trista now possesses. She's almost hypnotic.   
"You're awake."  
"I am," says Trista stiffly.  
"You found your breakfast. That's good. Come with me. I want you to meet my men."  
Trista and Damian move out to the alley behind the bookstore and into a demon bar via the back door. He takes her by the hand and leads her up to the second floor. They go down a tight and dimly lit hallway to the VIP room. Everyone here is dead or undead. They play pool and poker, feed, shoot up; it's a vampire junkie's dream. Damian introduces Trista to them. They all generally greet her and then go about their business.  
Damian leads Trista to a sofa and sits, pulling her close to him. He whispers in her ear affectionately as he runs his hand up her thigh, "You know, after what I've done for you, you owe me the farm. Metaphorically speaking, of course."  
Trista thrusts her palm, into his chest, sending him flying. She stands and without taking her eyes of Damian, punches through the wall closest to her, and pulls out a wooden stud. She easily breaks it in half, making a piece have a jagged edge, and says, "Well, you know, there's that saying," she continues as she walks towards him with her makeshift stake and bats the vamps that try to attack her away like flies, "The one says that eventually, the student must kill the teacher," she flings the makeshift stake at him and it hits home. He dusts and Trista says to the ash, "I wonder if that was supposed to be metaphorical too," she turns to everyone in the room and says, "You all work for me now. Objections? Complaints?"  
Everyone stands absolutely still, not wanting to upset the new boss. Trista smiles sweetly and says, "Good."  
Trista looks around and sees a girl vamp sitting in the corner, playing poker. She's pretty in a slutty Queen of the Damned kind of way.  
"You," Trista says, "Come with me."   
Down the hall and two doors from the party room is a bedroom. It's clearly nicer than any other room here but it's still ratty. The wallpaper is pealing, it's dusty and there are holes in the sheets. Trista stands going through an armoire full of women's clothes. She addresses the girl vamp, Clarissa, behind her, "You do know that this place is not even suitable for rats."  
Clarissa, being slightly intimidated, nods only slightly and says, "Yeah. Damian liked to keep a low profile."  
"Well that's crap. We're gonna have to find some better digs," she throws a shirt and says, "Ah! Who do I have to freaking kill to get some decent clothes!"   
"Sorry." Trista shrugs, "No worries." She pulls out a white wife beater and a black plaid skirt. She smiles and says, "This works." She changes into it and grabs a leather coat. She goes to leave, calling behind her, "I'll be back."

Willow's ready to do the locator spell. She looks up at Buffy, who nods at her. Willow nods back and begins. The map of New York begins to swell. Willow looks at it and says, "That's not supposed to happen." The map then bursts into flames; the flames are swept up and compressed into energy. The energy attacks Willow. It goes into her ears, her eye sockets, her mouth, her nose. She screams as she is thrown backwards.  
"Willow!" yells Buffy as she and Giles rush to her.  
"It's, it's, oh goddess, a counter spell."  
"What does that mean?" asks Sam.  
"It means someone doesn't want her to be found," says Giles gravely.  
"What do we do!" says Chloe. She's really worried and is starting to fidgit. She pulls out a cigarette but can barley hold it steady enough to light it. Spike grabs her lighter and lights it for her.  
"Thanks."  
Faith motions Chloe to throw her cigarettes to her and says, "Hey." Chloe tosses them to her and she lights one. She tosses them to Spike but he's already lit on of his own. He tosses them back to Chloe. Buffy crinkles her nose, but then, very seriously, "We look. We find her."  
Sam rises, "I second that."  
After taking a long drag Chloe says as she exhales, "Yeah. Yeah. Let's go."   
Buffy turns to Giles, "Giles?"  
"Well, I suppose what would be best is to check the magic shops, book stores—"  
"Bars," adds Chloe.  
"Why would she be in a bar?" asks Spike incredulously.  
Chloe shrugs. It was just a thought.  
"Better not rule it out, though. Okay, get into teams. Will, you're with me and Giles. Faith go with Chloe and Andrew and Sam, make sure you get these girls on a bus back home."  
"What? But I want to help," says Hannah.  
"Girls, you are on a schedule. You have to be home in order to pack for your flight to London," says Giles.  
The girls nod compliantly. Buffy continues, "We'll meet up at that Chinese restaurant." Everyone nods and begins to move out. Spike, not having anything assigned says, "Buffy…"  
She turns, realizing her mistake and says, without making eye contact, "Just stay here. Incase she comes back."  
Willow and Buffy check a back alley of a magic shop while Giles talks to the shop keeper. Willow says as Buffy checks a small puddle of blood on the ground, "I talked to Xander."  
"Not human," she mumbles to herself before she looks up at Willow, "Yeah? How's he doing?"   
"Good. He, uh, decided to take the trip. To London. In the spring."  
"Wow. The whole gang'll be together again."   
Willow smiles, slightly nostalgic, and says, "Yeah."  
Giles walks out, buttoning up his coat and says, "Nothing."

Spike has been smoking like a chimney, there are butts of cigarettes all over the room. He glances at the phone, but then, in a fit of misplace anger, picks it up and, with a snarl, throws the phone against the wall, causing it to shatter.  
"That's hotel property. There'll probably be a bill you'll have to skip out of for it," says Trista as she walks in, doing an award winning impersonation of her alive self. She smiles warmly at him.  
"Trista! Where the hell have you been!"  
Trista shrugs. She walks deeper into the room and half grabs the pack of cigarettes but catches herself before Spike notices.  
"The Scoobies are out looking for you. Why didn't you show?"  
"Why do you care?"  
Spike is confused by her tone. "We were worried."  
"Not my problem."   
"Care to enlighten me on what the hell your problem is?"   
"Nothing! I just, I couldn't handle it, alright! I freaked out so I went shopping, bought myself a new outfit and took a walk," she says in a controlled yet annoyed voice.  
"You could've called me."  
"Why? Because you're such a caring prince? You would've been too busy mooning over Buffy to care about me. You probably stared at her the whole way. Imagining all the nasty things you could do to her while she's sleeping."  
Spike snaps. He backhands her, hard. She touches her bleeding lip and laughs. He punches her again, sending her against the wall. He walks up to her and grabs a handful of her hair and pulls it to the side harshly, causing her head to tilt to the side. She has an inquisitive look in her eyes as she makes eye contact with him.  
Without warning, he pulls her towards him and kisses her very deeply. He lets go of her hair and wraps his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. Her coat opens as her left leg lifts and wraps around his waist. She grabs the back of his neck with her left hand and tangles the fingers of her right hand in his hair on the back of his head. She helps him remove his coat. It drops to the floor.  
On the bed, Spike, now naked, takes off Trista's skirt. They kiss with a frenzied passion. Trista flips him over, now on top. She digs three of her nails into his chest. He groans with pain, which causes Trista to smile. Without breaking eye contact, she licks the blood off of his chest. She lifts herself up and begins to ride him.  
Faith, Chloe and Andrew enter a dark magic shop. The gothic shopkeeper seems to recognize them when they walk in. They approach her. Faith is about to speak when Andrew bursts out with, "Listen, missy! We want answers and we want them now!"  
Faith pushes him and says to Chloe, "Keep the chimp occupied, would you?" Chloe takes Andrew to the back. Faith turns to the shopkeeper and says, "We're looking for a girl. She's small, blonde, maybe five foot three, kinda hot, good frame, works out."  
"Nope. Haven't seen her."  
"Liar," says a man leaning against the wall.  
Faith turns to him warily and says, "Got something to say?"  
"I'm guessing you're looking for Trista."  
Chloe and Andrew walk quietly towards them. Chloe says hopefully, "You know where she is?"  
"She's dead."  
"Oh my god," says Chloe as her eyes well up with tears. She turns away and Andrew puts a comforting arm around her.   
Faith eyes him stonily and says, "She walkin' around?"   
"Bouncy as a cheerleader."  
Chloe's confused and says, "But-- what?  
"Where did she go?" asks Faith in a harsh tone.  
The man smiles at her and shrugs. She lunges at him and slams him up against the wall, cracking the plaster. "Where. Did. She. Go!"  
"To see some guy!"  
"Spike," says Faith, alarmed.  
Faith lets go of the man and rushes out. Chloe and Andrew rush out behind her.  
"What's going on?" asks Chloe.   
"She'll kill him. She'll kill him and then kill whoever comes in the room."  
"She's gonna kill Spike!" asks Andrew, starting to freak out.  
Spike is standing alone in the room. His shirt is on but unbuttoned. He buckles his belt and looks up as Faith and Chloe and Andrew burst into the room.  
"Die, hell bitch!" screams Andrew.  
"Spike!" yells Faith but then sees that he's alone. She relaxes.  
"Was, was Trista here?" asks Chloe, very shaky.  
"Yeah," says Spike contemptuously as he starts to button his shirt.  
"And you guys…?"  
Spike sets his jaw and says, "What do you think?"  
"Oh, god!" says Andrew, disgusted but recovers with a nonchalant, "Oh?"   
"Spike--" begins Faith.  
"She was dead. She was a vampire. Now that I'm thinking about it, it's not that weird but, you know," says Andrew.  
Spike tenses, grabs his coat and storms out of the room, nearly taking the door off the hinges. Chloe calls after him, "It's your fault! You couldn't have known!"  
"No," begins Faith, "He's a vamp. He knew."

Spike, walking down the street, growls and screams angrily and starts kicking the crap out of a public mailbox. He demolishes it and is about to turn on a random person when Faith grabs him and pulls him into an alley. Spike falls and breaks down, his anger and violence gone. He just sits there. Faith kneels down in front of him and says, "Why'd you do it?"  
Spike looks up at her and after a long moment, he says, "I didn't want her to be dead."  
"So you tried to screw her back to life? I bet you're pretty good in the sack but damn--"  
"No. That's not it. I just thought, I don't know what I was thinking."  
"You wanted to cancel out an impossible move with another. Maybe it'd all go away."  
Spike looks her in the eye and says sincerely, "Yeah."  
"Do you love her?"   
"No."  
"Are you ready to kill her?"  
Trista walks down the crowded street, grinning wickedly and extremely proud of herself. She's beautiful, powerful, and about to be out of control. This makes her smile. The game is about to begin and she can't wait.   
_"No."_


	7. Fic the Seventh: Broken Glass

It's amazing how time flies. Seems like just yesterday our story began. We tend to forget how much time has passed since the beginning. We fall into the story. We fall and are devoured by the beauty of these people's past, present and future. Who remembers how long it's been since the story began? I, myself, couldn't say. But I do know that it started. Here. Here in Central Park long after the tourists and dog walkers had gone.

With a thud and a crack, Trista falls to the ground. Three vampires surround her, Sam and Chloe. The brisk night dries her lips and causes her to shiver. The shivering is over taken quickly though. It is overtaken by a new kind of shiver. A shiver that comes from deep inside when your blood boils, your muscles turn to rock and your eyes burn with a fire yet to be harvested by man. Trista flings herself up just as the vamps close in on Sam. Trista sees a fourth coming behind Chloe. Her jaw tightens and, for the first time, she screams with a general's command, "CHLOE. GET DOWN!"

Chloe rolls. She hits the ground but the ground is not the ground. Well, it is but it's not the park. It's a cemetery, it's raining, and it's cold. Chloe stays on the ground out of the way as Spike leaps over her and takes on two vamps. They engage, leaving Chloe forgotten.

Spike swings at Vamp1 cracking him good in the jaw. At the edge of the trees, Trista paces unseen, watching Spike. She counts under her breath the beats between each hit.

"1…2…3…1…2…3…"

Back at the fight, the vamps have Spike on the ropes. Vamp1 is holding him from the front and Vamp2 from behind. Vamp1 smiles victoriously but his smile quickly fades as he turns to dust, revealing a freaked out Chloe behind him, holding a jagged stick. This gives Spike leeway to break the grasp of Vamp2. He backhands him before he swiftly stakes him. He looks at Chloe, who's breathing heavily.

"It's not usually that hard," he says, almost apologetically.

"I'm okay. We should get back."

Spike nods and they move off. Walking down the street in less than comfortable silence, Chloe and Spike head towards the hotel of the moment. Ever since Trista… well, they've been moving around the city a lot. Seems like nothing is as safe as houses lately. It'll be another few days before they'll be able to move back into Chloe and Sam's apartment but until then, no one can sleep. Giles has gone back to England, mostly against his will, to train the new girls. It took many hours of arguing before Buffy could actually convince him to pack. Andrew, of course, accompanied him. Chloe's cell phone rings. They stop as she answers.

"Hello? Yeah. Okay. Thanks," she hangs up and looks to Spike, "There's a nest on 5th. Might be what we're looking for."

She moves forward but Spike catches her shoulder, shakes his head, "Not tonight. It can wait."

"Wait for what? Wait for Trista to get bored and come and pick us apart? Or are we waiting for her to massacre some random mass of people so we can't even get her back if we wanted to!" Chloe begins to shake, tearing up and pacing. She's lost and alone and her voice cracks as she speaks, "She's my friend and she's gone- I mean, you came back, so she can too, right? She- she can- we can bring her back right? We can give her a soul and she can…" She's crying now. The weight of her pain bearing down on her like a shadow demon that crushes one's chest in the night. Spike doesn't know what to do.

"Come on. Time to go, love," he says.

They move off into the night.

"Oh your nondenominational god! You're lying!" shrieks Trista as her laughter rings throughout the apartment. It's clear that it's not the present because Trista is very happy and very much alive.

Sam walks into the living room from the kitchen of their warm apartment brandishing various junk foods along with his boat of popcorn.

"Did you just say 'nondenominational god'?" he asks as he lays down the food onto the coffee table in front of Chloe and Trista.

"Yeah. I'm being politically correct. It's a thing," Trista replies and proceeds to stuff her face with popcorn.

"A weird thing," follows up Chloe.

"But a _correct_ thing. That's the thing behind the thing. Why it's my thing now," grins Trista.

"Please stop saying 'thing'."

"Oh, little Sammy's head is starting to hurt," laughs Chloe.

"Of course it is. You people talk in circles."

"What movie did you get?" asks Trista

"**Apocalypse Now**"

"Veto!" yell Trista and Chloe in unison.

"What? It's a great movie!"

"It's a movie that intercuts Marlon Brando's death with cow slaughter. Two words 'vee' and 'toh'," replies Trista, smiling wide.

"Fine, fine, fine. Finey McFinerson," grumbles Sam, "Just remember, I have more war movies and you only get one veto."

"I'm gonna have to kill you soon," says Trista lightheartedly.

"I'd like to see you try," says Chloe, grinning.

"I wouldn't," says Sam. He grins and grabs a pillow off the sofa and leaps on Trista, "Mine is an evil laugh!"

The three scream and laugh as Sam mock suffocates her.

Spike sits in one of the two hotel rooms in the dark. He drinks a large glass of half blood, half bourbon. He hears the talking and movement of the other room and wants no part of it.

He sighs sadly and speaks, "Lost a lot of people in my time. People I loved. People I cared about. It always ends the same. They kick, I get…" he takes a big swig of his blood, "and then there's the drinking."

Sam walks out from the shadows, worse for wear. It's clear he's really feeling the weight of the situation.

"Know how you feel."

Spike shakes his head, "Doubt that." He pulls out a flask and tosses it to Sam who catches it and takes a deep gulp.

"Your sis isn't holding up too well."

"I know"

They sit drinking their respective drinks. Silent. Barely moving. Alone.

In a bar far from the hotel, far from any living being, loud grunge metal roars. The place is packed from head to toe with demons. In the far corner, Trista plays pool with a Thraxis demon. She's, as usual, amazing looking. She's dressed up in knee high leather boots, black corset and a black pinstripe mini skirt.

"Look, I'm winning. I'm also getting bored. So we can quit now and I kill you for the hell of it."

"Don't you mean 'or'?"

"Dunno," she grins and gets a good grip of her pool cue, "Let's find out."

The Thraxis shrinks back, terrified. Trista smiles, throws the cue onto the table and clasps her hand on the Thraxis's shoulder. She says, "Hell, I'm just messing with ya." She laughs and moves away, leaving the Thraxis to catch his breath. Trista moves out into the back alley, takes out a cigarette.

"Trista," says a threatening vamp coming up behind her. He's big, he's mean, and he's pissed.

"Can I help you?" asks Trista, unafraid.

"We have to talk. Seems you torched my nest a few days ago."

Trista rolls her eyes and stomps out her cigarette as she replies, "You should be thanking me. That place was a monster eyesore. And besides, you're lemmings are dumbasses. They needed to be taught a lesson."

BigVamp cracks his knuckles as he advances on Trista, "No. I think it's you that needs to be taught the lesson."

Trista sighs, annoyed.

Inside the bar, everything abruptly stops when Big Vamp comes sailing through the doors from the alley. The music cuts off and everyone just stares. BigVamp gets to his feet as Trista saunters in behind him. He takes a swing at her but she catches his fist. She then slams her palm into his nose, breaking it. She cracks him in the knee, causing that to break also. She grabs him and starts beating his head into the wall. As she does this she says, "You don't seem to get it. I'm stronger than you," she then calls to all of the patrons, "I'm stronger than **all of you**. You think you're big and bad because you're demons, well you've all just been downgraded." She grabs BigVamp by the neck and breaks it, but to prove her point, continues to pull until BigVamp's head comes clean off and he dusts.

"How strong is she?" asks Chloe.

"We're not sure," Buffy replies, shaking her head sadly.

"So, we know nothing," sighs Sam.

Willow, Buffy, Faith, Chloe, Sam and Spike are sitting in their hotel room. The Scooby meeting is in midswing.

"We do know something," offers Spike, "she's a slayer turned vampire with the potential to kill us all."

"That is like Slayer Concentrate," says Willow.

"Means nothing. If I can fight a Hellgod, I can fight a overly peppy vamp."

"There's fighting now? When did we get to fighting? I thought there was still saving afoot but then we made a leap to fighting" says Chloe, starting to freak.

"It's okay," says Sam softly to Chloe. He puts his arm around his sister protectively. He nods at Buffy to continue.

"Will, did you try the locator spell again?"

"It was a bust. There's something really powerful protecting her. You know, now that I'm saying that out loud it seems kind of unnerving."

"Try very unnerving," says Buffy as she rises, taking general position, "Faith, you said you were at a magic shop when you found out about Trista? Go back there. Maybe the shopkeeper knows more than she's leading on. Chloe, Sam, you two'll come with me, we'll check some of Trista's usual haunts, see if anyone's seen her. Will, try to find her."

"But the locator-"

"You still know how to use a computer. Do you're Willow thing."

"Check. On board to get Willow-y"

"Good. Spike-"

"Might be good to leave him here. Maybe there'll be a repeat of last time. You know, minus the weird vampy love making session," says Sam. Buffy freezes, as does everyone else in the room. No one told her what went on that night. All she was told was that Trista came to the room. She looks to Spike. He doesn't avert her gaze. She's shocked and a little hurt, but she recovers and says, "Stay with Willow."

"But mo-_om_! I don't like selling cookies! Girl Scouts are evil. And they're hair pullers!"

"Now, Trista-"

"And Susie is crazy! She was sticking crayons up her nose and giggling when they won't come out!"

Mrs. Abberly scoops up her eight-year-old daughter into her arms and says, "Well, now that's just not healthy."

"She went to the _hospipal_ three times!" Trista says enthusiastically, holding up three fingers to illustrate her point.

"Hos_pital_, dear. 'Hospital' with a 'T'."

"'Hospipal' is better," says little Trista stubbornly.

"Well, I suppose if you don't want to go to Girl Scouts anymore then you don't have to."

"Thank you, mommy," says Trista as she wraps her arms around her mom's neck.

"Are you ready for your bath?"

"Mommy, I'm big enough to take one by myself!"

"But you'll always be my little Apple Cheeks!" says Trista's mom as she tickles her little girl.

"I will! I'll always be your good little baby."

A scream pierces through the memory, causing it to shatter. Another mother drops to the floor dead as her daughter, a little one of only six or seven, sits screaming and crying in the corner. Trista looks around the spacious and well furnished home. She calls to her lackeys that are waiting at the doorway, "Now _this_ is where we should set up shop."

"Trista," says Augustus, an average sized vamp. He motions to the little girl.

"Oh. Right," she moves to the little girl and scoops her up in her arms. She says to the girl in a sugary sweet tone, "You see, they can't come in until I kill everyone that lives here. And you," she touches the little girls nose, "my little Apple Cheeks, are the only one left." She smiles at the little girl and bares her fangs.

Willow's working away on the computer and combing through the newspapers as Spike walks in, carrying a grocery bag.

"Find anything, Red?"

"Nothing really tell-tale. There've been a series of mass murders that are really making headlines but they've been happening all over the city."

"So she's been on the move," he says as he takes out a beer from the case in the bag. He offers one to Willow.

"No thanks," she says almost uncomfortably as she waives away the bottle.

"Suit yourself."

At this point, Buffy, Chloe and Sam walk in. Willow asks Buffy hopefully, "Anything?"

She shakes her head. Willow sighs and says, "We're a font of nothingness too."

Sam moves over to the TV, turns it on and starts flipping channels.

"I guess we're just gonna have to sit. Wait for her to make a move."

"…_officers on the scene say it was nothing short of a bloodbath. All the children and employees are dead…_"

Buffy turns to the TV and says to Sam, "Turn it up."

"_The orphanage was allegedly broken into late last night by, what witnesses say, a small blonde woman of about twenty. If you have any information…_"

Sam, unable to take anymore, switches it off.

Faith walks into the shop once again and makes a beeline for the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper smiles, expecting the visit.

"Greetings-"

"Look, you're gonna have to cut the crap and tell me what you know."

"You speak as if you're sure I know something."

"Let's try this again."

Faith grabs the shopkeeper and punches her. She then holds her down by her neck and snarls, "You're going to tell me everything you know about the girl that came here the other night."

"Pretty thing. She was lost. She had to dig deeper."

"Great. Riddles."

"Depends on who's doing the digging," the shopkeeper replies. She begins to laugh, "You're all gonna die," she cackles more and more, her amusement growing. Faith tenses and tightens her grip.

"Who says?"

"Who doesn't?" the shopkeeper inquires, still very amused, "It's in the text."

"What text?" asks Faith as she lets go of the keeper.

"The text! Haven't you been listening?" replies the keeper, no longer amused.

"What're you playing at?"

"Not playing," says the shopkeeper, "I'm sorry you couldn't find what you're looking for. It's really a shame. What you need to understand is that this was all set in motion years ago. You can't change it and you can't stop it. It's over."

The shopkeeper then attacks Faith with a ball of magical fire. Faith dodges it and launches herself at the shopkeeper. She slams her into the wall and then knocks her out with a few sharp punches.

"You can't do this!"

"I have to! She slaughtered an orphanage, Chloe. There's no going back."

The gang is gathered, in the middle of a heated argument.

"You don't know that!"

Buffy, jaw set and eyes burning, replies, "I do."

"Maybe there's another way," offers Willow.

"There's not and you know it."

Chloe rounds on her, "You were planning this from day one! You were never going to try to bring her back! You were-"

"You know that's not true," says Willow, cutting her off.

"Look. We have no choice," begins Buffy.

"No! No. There's always a choice," says Sam. He stands, shaking. He's overwhelmed by his emotions. He turns to face them all, "I know you guys don't know Trista like Chloe and I, but please understand me when I say that she is a good person. She's a hero and more than that she's our leader. I know that it's dangerous and it's hard but she's not some crazy vampire. She's Trista. And she's worth saving."

Everyone is quiet, absorbing the weight of what Sam has said. They don't just absorb, they understand and, even more, they believe. Sam smiles self consciously and says, "I think we should-"

He doesn't finish his sentence. He never will. He's cut off by his neck breaking. He's cut off by his being murdered. By Trista. As Sam's body falls to the ground, Trista smiles. She looks to the shocked gang and says, "Hey."

Buffy doesn't skip a beat, she tackles Trista. They roll into the hallway. They take their respective stances and go at it. It's clash of the titans. Buffy swings, Trista blocks and punches, Buffy reels back but recovers. She spin kicks Trista in the face, sending her back. Faith and Spike come running into the hallway. Trista takes a painting of the wall and slams it into Faith's face. She attacks Faith with three swift movements, knocking her out. Without missing a beat, she elbows Buffy in the face and turns to face Spike. She looks at him with recognition and caring. She asks in a confused, scared voice, "Spike?" This causes him to pause long enough for her to kick him in the face, sending him hard back into the hotel room. Willow comes rushing out and screams, "Bind!" but it bounces off of Trista and flings back onto Willow, she falls to the ground paralyzed. Trista turns back to Buffy. Buffy launches herself, doling out quick, graceful moves that send Trista reeling. She goes to swing again but Trista blocks, blocks, swings, but this time Buffy's ready for her. She ducks and comes back up. She spins in the air, kicking Trista in the face with both feet before landing. She lands a few punches but Trista recovers. She pounds on Buffy, punch after punch after punch. She grabs Buffy by the back of the head and smiles at her. She then flings Buffy out of the nearby window at the end of the hall. Faith comes back up, fuming. Trista grins at her and then sprints down to the other end of the hall, Faith following close behind. Trista dives and flies out of the other window.

On the ground, she lands on her feet, glass shattering around her. She goes off into the night, leaving the destruction behind her.

"Buffy!" Spike yells, as he rushes to her. He helps her pick herself up, "You alright, love?"

"I'm okay," she groans, "I'm okay. Is anyone else hurt?"

"Willow had a magic ricochet but she's okay."

"And Sam?"

Spike just shakes his head. This hurts Buffy, but even more, it angers her. She says, "Let's go. We have to get back up there."

In the master bedroom of their new nest, Trista sits, painting her nails as Augustus paces. He speaks in an almost spazzy tone, "It's not that it wasn't a great victory but I just thought- just thought that you'd be stronger. You know, what with the Slayer Vamp mix thing."

Trista rolls her eyes and says, "I held back."

"You what?"

"I fought with that bitch instead of just ripping her heart out," she says this with no contempt, just stating a fact. She continues, "I threw her through a window instead of throwing her into a grave."

Utterly confused, Augustus asks, "Um. Why?"

Trista shrugs as she walks over to her closet, "No reason to," she flings the closet door open revealing a young, terrified victim. She grabs the victim by the hair and drags him across the room as she says, "Besides, if I killed her now, then it would have had to be a quick death," she addresses her victim as she says, "And that's just a waste, isn't it?" She smiles as she morphs into vamp face. She devamps and pushes her victim's head towards the ground. "There was a weird thing, though. Willow shot some spell thing at me and it just, I dunno, bounced."

"Do you think it has anything to do with-"

"Ssshh!" cuts off Trista, "I don't want the others to hear about it."

"Sorry."

"Yeah. Okay. I think I'm gonna go to bed."

"Goodnight," says Augustus before he backs out, unsure on if he should bow or not. Trista turns to her victim.

"Funny kid, isn't he?" she looks at the large mirror hanging on the wall and smiles at her nonreflection. Suddenly, Trista's reflection is visible. It flickers in the mirror and is gone. Trista falls backward staring shocked at the mirror where her reflection just was.

"What the…"


	8. Fic the Eighth: Breathe

It's day and, once again, our gang is in a cemetery. However, their black garments and forlorn faces show that they're there for a new reason. Off in the distance, Spike stands in the shade of the mausoleum, just staring. Chloe is shaking and having trouble holding back her tears as she puts flowers on Sam's grave. Buffy puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Ding! The elevator doors open and the gang files out to the hall. Chloe first, then Buffy, Willow, Faith and lastly Spike, blanket at the ready. The last time they were here, the hallway was destroyed. There was so much broken, tarp on the windows and the dust of new sheetrock everywhere. Now, everything is as it was. The windows are clear, the floors their shiniest. They move down the hall to Chloe's apartment. As they walk, she takes big Lamaze breaths in an attempt to quell her nervousness. They get to the recently repainted door and Chloe unlocks and pushes it open. She enters and it's like the air goes out of the room. She's choked by the memories. She can hear Sam and Trista's voices, she can see them walking around the room, talking, playing, living. Chloe begins to hyperventilate and falls back but Sam catches her.

"I got you."

She screams and launches herself forward, terrified. When she looks back, she sees that Sam isn't there. All she sees is the bemused faces of the Scoobies. Buffy takes a tentative step forward and asks gently, "Chloe, are you okay?"

"Huh? Yeah. I just…" she trails off. They all file into the apartment. She calls over her shoulder absently, "Make yourselves at home."

Spike passes behind Buffy pausing to whisper, "Bird's flying off the handle."

"Ya think?"

Trista stares at the mirror for a few beats before she knocks on it, as if she's seeing if her reflection'll come out and play.

"Um… what are you doing?" asks Augustus.

Trista stares at the mirror and says distractedly, "Nothing. Nothing." She turns to him and asks, "Have you ever killed someone and regretted it later?"

Augustus's eyes bug a bit and says, "Whoah-oh! Okay, not my business." He begins to back out of the room.

"It's just I killed Damian and now I think I need to talk to him."

"Oh. _Ohh!_ I thought you were talking about a human. Because, that's just not natural."

"Something's wrong."

"Something's not?"

Trista looks at him, bemused. He says, "We're vampires. That's a big ol' brouhaha of wrong."

Trista grabs her coat and goes to leave the room, without a word.

Spike and Faith play poker at the dining room table as Buffy and Willow converse in the living room. Spike leans back and swings his leg over the corner of the table and lets it hang there. Chloe, starting to look very pale, passes by them. Spike looks at her and asks, "Want us to deal you in, love?"

"Huh? No," she answers and keeps moving towards the kitchen. Spike shakes his head and turns back to Faith.

The phone rings. Chloe ignores it and lets it ring. Buffy looks up and asks, "Clo, you want me to answer it?"

Chloe turns back to look at Buffy but sees Trista sitting there. She clasps her hand over her mouth and begins to cry. She runs to her bedroom, slamming the door. Buffy looks at Willow, confused. Willow shrugs and says, "I guess that's a yes?"

Buffy grabs the still ringing phone and answers, "Hello?"

On the other line is a very forlorn little green Pylean.

"Be a dear, and get Faith please," says Lorne.

Buffy hands the phone to Faith and says, "For you."

"Um. Hello?"

"Hi, hun bun. Good to be talking to you again."

"Who is this?"

Lorne takes a large gulp of his sea breeze and answers, "The little green demon with jingling bells and a heavy heart."

"Who?"

"It's Lorne!" he says a bit overzealously, "I met you a couple years ago. At the hotel? I took care of you when you were frickin dying!"

"Ohhhh. What's up?"

Lorne sighs heavily and says, "Well see, sugar lump, I had this friend. One of the best friends I ever had, and she called me a while back, crying about a loved one's destiny. She was afraid for him and decided she needed to do something about it. Turns out, in her action, she tripped the switch that caused the big wheels to get on turnin'."

"Trista," answers Faith, beginning to understand. This grabs the gang's attention.

"What?" asks Willow.

Lorne continues, "Every day that passes, we're another step closer to hell. You need to dig deeper. I know a girl, well a demon. She's the sweetest thing and gifted with the sight. She'll help you on your path."

The gothic shopkeeper is standing at her counter, nursing the bruises she received from Faith. She goes to grab her pen but accidentally knocks it off the counter. She bends down to get it, and when she rises, sees Trista standing there. The shopkeeper looks at her, excited about her arrival.

"You've come!"

"Uh, yeah?"

The shopkeeper scurries to the back of the room calling back, "I've been expecting you! We have so much to talk about. You, what happened to you, the apocalypse!" She finds a very large and ancient book that she carries back to the counter. She continues, "And, of course, the prophecy."

"What prophecy?" asks Buffy.

Buffy and Faith stand in the backroom of Dana's Delectable Pastries and Desserts speaking to Dana. Dana has long flowing hair and her eyes are two intense pools of white. She sits at a wooden table, palms flat on the surface staring ahead.

"In the 14th Century, Aberlen Scotts wrote of the coming of a vampire-"

"-stronger than any that's come before. You became a slayer before a vampire. You're special. You'll bring about the Apocalypse."

"The Apocalypse?"

"Yes. That's why I've been protecting you! You may be strong but you're still vulnerable to magic."

"You've been protecting me…"

"You'll deliver us. You'll kill them all."

Spike sits with Willow and Chloe as they wait for Buffy and Faith to get back. Chloe fidgets some and asks, "How long has it been?"

Willow, working on the computer, answers, "It's only been about an hour, sweetie."

Spike cracks his neck and says, "Well, you two can sit around all night waiting for the gallant heroes to return."

He gets up and moves to the back of the apartment, grabbing a blanket out of the hall closet on the way. He turns and moves into Trista's bedroom. It's essentially empty now except for the stripped bed and dresser. He undresses and drapes the blanket over him on the bed. After a few minutes, he's asleep.

"Seems Alberlen believed that the Vampire would be born of the holiest of the holy. '_And he shall walk with a hero's heart and die with a hero's gasp. He shall awaken with a demon's vengeance and kill with Lucifer's strength._'"

Buffy and Faith take it all in.

_On a cobweb afternoon… In a room full of emptiness… by a freeway I confess… I was lost in the pages… of a book full of death... reading how we'll die alone… and if we're good we'll lay to rest… anywhere we want to go…_

Spike moves through the dark club, feeling the heat and heaviness of the air. He also takes in the music. It's slow, sad and intense. As the chorus comes, Spike looks to the dance floor and since Trista, in the thick of it all, dancing sensuously, staring at him.

_In your house I long to be… room by room patiently… I'll wait for you there… like a stone… I'll wait for you there… alone_

They're sitting at a table now. She looks at him, knowingly, sweetly. The music's still playing.

"Do you know what they're talking about now? You."

She looks at the crowd. Even though her lips aren't moving, Spike can hear her.

"It's sad. So much loss, so much sadness. We're all wondering around wishing for someone to bring us to salvation. He never comes."

She looks at him forlornly and sighs, "Where did I go?"

The chorus comes again, passionately. _In your house I long to be… room by room patiently… I'll wait for you there… like a stone… I'll wait for you there… alone… Aloonee! /u _

The guitar solo begins.

They're dancing but then they're sitting at the table like it never happened.

She looks to him and says "It's you now. It's you." He nods to her, understanding. The music slows down as she rises and moves back towards the dance floor. Spike sits, watching her.

_And on I read… until the day was gone… and I sat in regret… of all the things I've done… for all that I've blessed… and all that I've wronged… in dreams until my death… I will wander on_

The music kicks up, louder, faster. As Spike, who rose and followed Trista, spins her around and kisses her passionately. They kiss deep and long, through the rest of the song, lost in each other.

Spike awakens from his dream, her voice ringing in his ears. She's whispering, "I love you."

"She will rise and rid this earth of humanity. She will bring about a new order. The Old Ones will rise and the world will be as it was."

"How can I kill her?" asks Buffy, not liking what Dana is telling her.

Dana smiles sadly and says, "You can't. No living thing can stop the Scourge of Humanity."

"You're not serious," says Faith, disbelieving.

"It has been said and so it shall pass," after saying, Dana frowns and says, "Odd. Very odd."

Trista walks back to the nest, surprised and excited about the massacre that will come to pass. She stops at a window of TVs and watches the news coverage of the orphanage. She smiles at her accomplishment. Suddenly, her reflection appears in the glass. She backs up startled. Then, there's an intense beating in her chest that causes her to fall to her knees and grab at her chest. She starts breathing hard, something she hasn't done in a while. She screams. As soon as it started, it ends. As she lies on the sidewalk in a paralyzed silence, she thinks back to the night she was turned. The incense, the chanting, the anointing. She had never seen anything like it. She didn't know it could even be done.

Buffy and Faith walk down the street, on the way back to the apartment. Buffy is lost in the thought. She mumbles, "No living thing…" She stops, looks to Faith and says, "I've got an idea."

Spike sits, perched on the dresser, thinking. While he thinks, Buffy, still with Faith on the street, says, _"This isn't over. No living thing can stop her. Lucky for us, we're not all living."_


	9. Fic the Ninth: Home Stretch

"Are you serious?"

"I am."

"Are you in any way stoned?"

"Spike."

"I'm just asking."

Buffy turns towards the rest of the group and says, "So, this is the plan. For once we're gonna play by the prophecy's rules."

"Um, Buffy? It's not that I don't have faith in Spike… because I do… but how is he going to fight Trista? Her strength even before she became a vampire was, hey, slayer-y," says Willow.

"Which is why we have you, Will. I think it's time we got back to our roots."

"Oh! Troll hammer?" inquires Spike.

"Not exactly," says Buffy.

"Is this gonna involve magic? Because I'm all about getting rootsy as long as we're not talking about _my_ roots. Those roots are bad. Like the crazy uncle you never invite to the family reunions," says Willow, a bit anxious.

Buffy just smiles at her and turns towards the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "We'll set up the war room in here."

Spike sighs to himself, "Then we'll go to war." He moves down the hall towards Trista's room. He sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. He looks up to see Chloe standing in the doorway.

"Hey," she says tentatively. He just looks at her. She sighs and sits next to him on the bed before she says, "You nervous?"

He looks down at the floor and, after a long moment, says quietly, "I became a vampire over a hundred bleeding years ago but… I'm still me. I still-- that whole thing about vampires being completely different from the humans they came from is a lie. Before I died, I loved my mum, and after, I still did. What if-- what if I fight her and I win and I kill her? I kill Trista," he looks up at her lost and even afraid, "What if a part of her is still in there? I might damn her to hell without her even having a say in it."

Chloe shakes her head and says slowly, sadly, "Trista's gone. She's gone and nothing can bring her back."

Trista's crying and having fits on the floor of her room as Augustus runs to her. With tears flowing down her eyes, she screams insanely, "Dead! Dead! They're all dead and I did it. How could I do this? My heart! My heart!" She looks at the mirror and screams more and falls back, crying even more. Augustus looks over to see Trista's reflection in the mirror as it convulses and cries with its doppelganger.

"Holy…"

"Holy! God's going to **smite** me all the good little girls go to heaven but the **bad** ones get spankings bad harsh eternal spankings what if he doesn't believe that **I'm sorry** I didn't **mean** it I never even ran over an animal when driving I didn't step on the bugs they stepped on **me** my flesh is **crawling** why am I-- WHY! Why am I--"

Suddenly, Trista's quiet, staring placidly at the ceiling. Augustus looks at the mirror again but sees that nothing is there. He approaches her nervously. After a long beat and with unnatural speed, Trista grabs him by the collar and pulls him close. In full vamp face, she growls at him, "Make it stop."

"What about an enchanted sword?"

"Too risky. It might get knocked across the room or something."

"Fire ball?"

"Too flammable."

"UV ray… ball… thing?"

Buffy shakes her head and takes a seat next to Willow and says, "It'd take him with it."

"And that's a bad thing?"

They both look over to see a travel worn Xander standing in the doorway, grinning.

"Xander!" Willow yells as she and Buffy rush him.

"How… why… Xander!" says Buffy, embracing him.

"Plane… don't know… you're choking me!"

They release him some but remain close, so excited that he's there.

"Xander! You're here!" says Willow, then in a bewildered tone, "Why are you here?"

"Giles called me and, come on! It's an apocalypse. The Xand-man doesn't miss the world ending. Think about it. I'm in Africa and my friends are running around saving the world and where's the bragging rights in that? No, I gotta be present," he smiles at them and indicates them as he says, "See the dynamic? There's a dynamic here! The world can't be saved dynamic-less."

Buffy smiles at him and says, "That's a very compelling argument."

"I practiced in the elevator," he says before switching gears, "So, who what when where why and how?"

"Well," Buffy begins, "Spike's fighting a slayervamp, soon, don't know, did I mention slayervamp?"

"And we haven't the slightest idea how he's supposed to kill her and not die again," finishes Willow.

"Once again, and that's a bad thing? Wait, the slayervamp, it's not…"

"Trista," says Willow, "Her name's Trista."

This affects Xander slightly.

"You knew her?" asks Buffy.

"I met her once when she was with Giles. We talked a while," says Xander sadly, "I liked her. She was good people."

"Yeah," says Willow sympathetically.

They all sit on the sofa by the coffee table.

Buffy says, "So, how've you been?"

"Horrible. I'm frickin' **horrible**! I keep having these chest pains and things are circulating and **AHHHH**," in a fit of anger she flings her fist into a bookshelf so hard that it goes through it. The shopkeeper looks to Augustus who just shrugs. The keeper then looks at Trista, a bit afraid. She attempts to appease her, "Now just calm down--"

"Calm down? Calm down! I'm supposed to be preparing for a massacre, damn it! I don't have time for this crap!" she kicks the counter behind her, causing it to shake violently. She grabs her head and starts to fidget, also violently. Her fingers tangle in her hair and she says, "I feel like my skin is crawling. I don't know what to do. What do I do?"

She looks up to see that the keeper is already searching through an old tome. She marks a page and spins it towards Trista. "Go there. It'll make you all good again."

Trista reads the page. The ritual, the ingredients, the words… it all seems legitimate. Trista asks, "This'll work?" The shopkeeper smiles confidently, "Oh, it'll work."

As Trista reads, she shudders a little and says, "Okay."

The living room erupts with the laughter of Buffy and Willow as Xander tells a story of his adventures in Africa. The girls are nearly are nearly crying, they're laughing so hard.

"And then, I swear to god, the poor kid was up the tree for an hour."

"Just like that?" asks Buffy jokingly.

"_Just_ like that."

At that moment, Spike walks into the apartment, sees Xander, and, without missing a beat, says, "Oh, Jesus," and turns around to leave.

"Spike," Buffy calls, "We need to talk about the--"

"No. We don't. Just find out where she is and I'll fight. Alright?"

"Spike," attempts Xander.

"Piss off," Spike retorts before heading towards his usual room.

"He's just a ray of bastardness tonight, isn't he?" observes Xander.

"He does seem a bit snippier than usual," adds Willow.

Faith comes in with a very pale Chloe. It's obvious she's not adjusting well. Faith sees Xander and half smiles, "Xander."

"Faith."

"Chloe, this is Xander," says Willow, "He's a friend."

"Oh," she says quietly and sits in a chair.

There's a long beat of silence… a really long beat.

"Um. What are we talking about?" asks Willow.

Beat.

"Kid in a tree?" tries Xander.

"Wait. Spike not dying. Let's go back to that," says Buffy.

"Enchanted… UV Ball… thing… with enchanted shield…of UV ball blocking… thing…?" asks Willow. They look at her like she's really loosing it. She looks back at them, "What? At least I'm trying. Xander's been here for like an hour and he hasn't had one idea."

"I was busy with the story and the tree and the thing! I would've offered one of my many great ideas if asked," he says.

They all look at him. He shakes his head.

"I've got nothing. We all know I've got nothing, so let's not even pretend."

"Why don't you just make him stronger?" tries Chloe.

There's a silence and shocked looks. Why didn't they think of that?

"It's just a basic strength spell. Should be pretty easy to do. He'll, uh, well, he'll get the strength of, like--"

"A Trista?" finishes Buffy, following up Willow's explanation.

"Exactly."

"Xander?" asks Buffy.

"Yeah?" he says, standing up.

"Feel like a field trip?"

"As always."

He grabs his coat and follows Buffy out.

Trista sits in the back her freshly stolen car as Augustus drives. Sitting to her left is the shopkeeper, chanting over a bowl with smoke coming out of it.

"And with the blood of the One, the spell shall pass."

Trista rolls her eyes, "Right. Because that's not lame." She takes a dagger and slices her hand, and turns it so the blood drips into the bowl. The gray smoke turns red, and the keeper smiles. She says, "It is done."

Trista looks to her, suddenly interested, "Yeah?"

"Yes. Do you remember what to do?"

Trista nods, looking at the bowl. She asks, "Are you sure it's done?"

The shopkeeper just smiles.

On the street, the car barrels down the slick road as, without even slowing, the Shopkeeper's lifeless body is flung out of the car. Trista's voice rings out in the night as she calls, "Thanks!"

Back at the nest, Trista's vamps gather and speculate where she went. Before they can get a decent bet going, they look up to see Buffy leaning in the doorway, Xander close behind. Buffy smiles casually at them, twiddling a stake in her hands.

"Who're you?"

Buffy smiles wider and says, "You'll find out."

"She's the Slayer. The One. The One before the… other ones. Capital 'S', rhymes with 'best' and that's what she is," says Xander excitedly.

He'd go on but Buffy says, "I was kind of going for a more 'live and learn' type of thing, Xand."

"Sorry," he says sheepishly. He looks to the vamps and explains, "I've been out of commission for a while."

"Now, we can either have a civilized conversation or we could fight."

She barely has time to get out the last word before the 6 vamps start to rush her.

She shrugs, "'Kay."

She heads off the first with a swift kick in the stomach and wraps around to crescent moon kick a second, sending him careening into a third. She and the vamps go at it. Xander jumps right on in, getting in a good punch. One goes to slam him with a chair, and he lets out what he'll later recall as a "manly yelp". Buffy quickly gains the upper hand and dusts Vamp1, spins around and dusts Vamps2&3 in one swift motion. Xander dusts Vamp4, obviously without slayer ease, but he gets it done. He always does.

"Buffy!" he yells, drawing attention to Vamps5&6 as they try to escape. Buffy flings her stake across the room, hitting Vamp5 in the heart. She then picks up an end table and hurls in at Vamp6, causing him to fall onto the ground.

Xander screams a battle cry and goes to stake 6 but Buffy screams, "Xander! No! I want that one!"

He stops, looks up sheepishly, "Oh. Okay. Sorry."

Buffy walks up and grabs Vamp6 and says, "Ready for that conversation?"

She hurls him across the room and picks him up by his collar and slams him against a wall.

"You'll never--" begins the vamp but, lacking patience, Buffy slams him against the wall again to shut him up.

"I'm really pressed for time and I have this thing I need to get to, so here's how it's gonna work. You're gonna tell me where Trista is--"

"Or what? You'll kill me?"

"Well, see I'm gonna kill you whether you tell me or not but your answer, the correct one I may add, will keep it from taking too long."

The vamp starts laughing, "You think you can intimidate me? You come in here with your fancy spin kicks and your flippy hair and you think I'm just going to fall to my knees?"

Buffy cracks him in the knee with her foot, causing him to fall, well, onto his knees. Xander looks at him and says, "Apparently so."

Spike walks into a room and sits with Trista. He doesn't know where he is or what the room looks like. It doesn't matter. He can only see Trista's face, smiling at him. Right now, it's the only thing he knows. It feels like they've been here for hours, sitting, talking.

"Do you think Sid killed Nancy?"

"I think she had it coming," answers Spike.

"Do I have it coming?"

There's silence. Spike can't answer. She looks at him sweetly.

"You're a good man."

"How would you know?"

"Because I like you."

Spike shakes his head and sighs, "You don't even really know me."

Trista smiles knowingly at him and says, "Let me tell you a story. Once there was this poet. He was so-- he was just horrible at poetry. Absolutely, painfully horrible. I mean, they never should've allowed this guy to have a quill. It was that bad. Well, he happened to be hopelessly in love with a girl. He proclaimed said love in a poem. The poem? It was a bit less than effulgent. There was cringing and it was bad but he knew that it would be that way. He told the girl he loved-- he told her that they were just words. He knew that he was a bad poet, but he also knew he was a good man." She pauses and looks into his eyes. She shifts gears, no longer telling the story, "You forget the rhyming scheme sometimes and get confused about what you're writing, but the feeling's still there. You're genuine and sincere and _that_ is what makes you a good man. That's why I like you."

He looks at her perplexed. She just told him something he never told her. He asks, "How did you…?"

"I'm in your head, sweetie. You'd be surprised what I can see."

He looks at her sadly and says with a quiver in his voice, "What if I kill you?"

She smiles at him and shakes her head, "No. I'll always be here," she touches his head, "And here," she touches his heart, "And," she leans in to kiss him and barely whispers, "Here…"

They kiss sweetly and softly. It's over quickly, lacking the passion of love, the fire of one's heart, but it holds a unique quality. It holds the comfort of comradery. Of friendship.

She looks up towards the sky and says, "It'll be odd… blinking at the sun… wishing it was real."

Spike wakes up to see Faith walk up and knock once on the doorframe of the open door.

"You up?"

Spike and Faith walk out to the living room to find Buffy, Xander, Willow and Chloe waiting for them. Buffy nods to Faith but doesn't look at Spike.

"Spike. Glad you could join us," says Buffy. She turns to the group as a whole and continues, "Xander and I found Trista's nest and had a chat with one of the vamps there," she pauses, "Trista's gone. She heard about the prophecy, and she skipped town."

The group tenses.

"What?" asks Chloe, freaking out.

"Do you know where?" asks Willow.

Buffy just shakes her head.

"But we did find out something important. Pivotal, in fact. Tell em, Buff," says Xander, trying win back the team's morale.

"Our little stool pigeon overheard that the shopkeeper from that magic shop was the one protecting Trista from Willow's spells."

"So what does that mean?" asks Chloe.

"No more shop girl equals no more protection," answers Spike.

"Which equals workable locator spell. All we have to do is take the shopkeeper out of the mix," says Buffy.

"Something I can do," says Faith as she cracks her knuckles.

"You won't need to," proclaims a figure that quietly slipped in during the conversation. Everyone turns with a start to see Lorne standing by the door. He sadly smiles and says, "Hi."

At this point, Buffy steps forward and, well, punches him. Hard. Lorne falls to the ground.

"Lorne!" yells Willow, rushing to him.

"You know its name!" asks Buffy.

"Did she just call me an _'it'_!" screeches Lorne lividly as Willow helps him up.

"I'm sure she didn't mean it," replies Willow, trying to appease him.

"What the hell is going on?" asks Buffy.

"This is Lorne. He was a friend of Angel's," answers Willow before she goes off to get Lorne some ice as he sits unsteadily on the sofa.

"Oh," begins Buffy, "Sorry."

"Happens all the time."

"Will, when were you in LA long enough to meet Angel's friends?" asks Buffy.

"I met him a couple years ago when I had to tell Angel you, you know, died."

"You've died before?" asks Chloe in astonishment.

"Just the once…"

"Um, Buffy…?" begins Xander. He discreetly holds up his index and middle finger, indicating two.

Buffy turns back to Chloe and says, "Okay, twice."

"Oh, Faith you look nice. Been working out?" asks Lorne.

"Not as much as I used to. What with the nonincarceration and all, less time to lift weights."

"Oh, I heard you went on trial. How'd that go?" Willow comes in with ice in a rag for him, "Oh, thank you, sugar lamb."

"One of the members of the Supreme Court's a wizard and a new friend of ours. He found out who she was and got her off," answers Willow.

"I bet he did," snorts Spike.

Faith hits Spike in the stomach before she moves to sit on the arm of the chair. Lorne looks to Spike and says disappointed, "Oh, Spikey, Spikey. Look at you! You look like the entire world's weighing you down, especially under the eyes. Have you gotten any sleep?"

"A bit too much, actually," answers Spike, thinking of his Trista dreams.

"I'm still not full of grasping what's going on," says Buffy.

Lorne stands, dusts himself off and says to Buffy, "Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan at your service, but please, _please_ don't call me that. It's a mouthful and an all around hassle. So," he indicates himself by putting his open hand on his chest, "Lorne."

"Buffy."

"Well, I would say so! That's quite a right hook you've got there."

"Lorne's an empath demon," says Willow.

"A whonow?" asks Buffy incredulously.

"I see destiny through the almighty gift of song."

"Whoa-no. We've been down this road before. Singing and dancing equals burning and dying!" says Xander, on the defensive.

"Oh, no, sweetie beets. There's no dancing, I mean, there could be dancing if you wanted to dance. But, essentially, you just sing and I tell. That's all. Of course, my little tidbits never really worked out for poor Angelkins but--"

"Wait a minute," interrupts Xander, "Angel _sang_?"

"Yuh-huh."

A smirk grows on Xander's face. He tries to compose himself.

"What, uh, would you care to say what exactly he sang?"

"Well, Angelface did have a certain soft spot for Barry Manilo. Poor guy, having to get up in front of all those people and all."

Xander bursts into a fit of laughter. Everyone looks at him as he nearly hyperventilates he's laughing so hard. He has to put his hand of the back of the chair for support. Tears start to come out his eyes as he looks up to see everyone gawking at him. He gets out, "I'm sorry… it's just… Angel… singing… in _public_--" He bursts into another giggle fit.

"Xander," says Willow as he starts to wind down.

"Yeah?"

"Don't make fun of dead people!" she replies.

He sobers and clears his throat and in an overly manly voice says, "Sorry."

"As much fun as two stepping back down memory lane is, we should probably focus on the matter at hand," suggests Lorne, "Willow, sweetie, why don't you start setting up your locator thingamajig?"

"But Lorne--"

"Just trust me."

Willow nods and moves off.

"See, between my very dramatic entrance and when I got clocked in the ever lovin' coconut, I was planning on explaining my proclamation. I couldn't help vague-ing it up. I mean, who doesn't love a little ambiguity, right? I wasn't planning on the concussion though."

"Again with the sorry," says Buffy guiltily.

Lorne waves his hand dismissively, "Sweetie, when people hit me with only their fist I'm overjoyed by my luck. Well, any way, that shopkeeper's everyone is going on about? She's dead."

Everyone reacts with shock.

"You, you saw that in one of your vision things?" asks Xander, awed.

Lorne nods solemnly, "Yes. Well, okay. No. It was on the news."

Everyone starts and turns towards Willow's excited "Yeee!" She looks up at them, smiling wide and says, "It's working."

"How much longer?"

Augustus sighs, "A couple hours yet, Trista."

"Why the hell is it taking so long?"

"Well, it is in another state--"

"So? It's not fair, you know. The apocalypse temple was in the city. It was the uberconvenient. And besides, I'm getting hungry."

"You want me to stop?"

"No… just keep driving."

Everyone moves frantically around the apartment. Apparently it's time to saddle up. Buffy walks through the living room full on general.

"Will, you almost set?"

Willow is sitting on the floor over a smoking bowl. She looks up and smiles. Her eyes are glowing beautiful silvery white, resembling the day she did Slayer spell.

"Just about."

"Wow," says Buffy, "That's new."

Willow smiles serenely, "It comes and it goes."

Buffy moves down the hall, pausing to see Lorne, Faith and Xander picking out weapons for Spike. She continues to the back room and sees Spike himself, leaning against the wall, rubbing his forehead.

"Ready?"

"Suppose."

"Good," she turns around to leave.

"Buffy."

She stops and waits for him to speak.

"You angry at me, pet?"

She turns around and says, "What would make you think that?"

"You've barely even looked in my general direction for a while."

"Is that supposed to mean something?"

"Not to mention the tone."

"There's no tone."

"There's a tone."

"There's no tone!" she says in an angry tone.

"If there's no tone, then why are you getting angry?" asks Spike, antagonizing her.

"Just leave me alone."

She goes to leave again, but Spike follows and closes the door from behind her before she can leave. He turns to face her. He reads her expression and laughs ruefully, "Oh I see what this is."

"Oh really? Care to let me in on what this is?"

She brushes past him, further into the room. Spike follows.

"You saw me making eyes at another girl. I bet it stung."

"You have no idea what you're talking about--"

"You saw me being able to connect with someone else and, god forbid, be the least bit happy. You saw me moving on and it pissed you off."

"You're wrong--"

Spike moves in close to her. Very close.

"Look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong."

Buffy pauses, staring him down.

"You're. Wrong."

"You're lying."

"Nope."

Spike backs off. After a long beat Buffy says, "Do you love her?"

"I knew it!"

"Just answer the question, Spike!"

"No! Alright? Are you happy now? I **care** about her and I **miss** her but no. I do not love her. I love you! Does that give you the piece of mind you're egotistical boat needs to stay afloat! I will live the rest of my life loving you, you self-centered little bitch! I swear if you just stepped off that high horse of yours for a bleeding minute, we'd all be the better for it."

"I'm sorry."

Spike stops fuming and looks at her and says in a softer tone, "No… I'm sorry. Prebattle stress and all that."

"No, it's just…"

"I didn't mean any of it..."

"I don't want you going off angry at me."

Spike can't say anything but he does offer her a slight smile. He's not angry. Buffy comes up close to him, squeezes his hand affectionately.

"Good luck."

She kisses him lightly on the cheek. This, like anything emotional that has to do with Spike makes his heart swell. He gives her hand another squeeze.

In an old warehouse in upstate New Jersey, Trista walks almost silently carrying a bottle of the concoction the shopkeeper mixed. She stops and looks around, noticing the floor. Engraved in the cement floor is a large pentagram; in the center is a hole that's smooth and round like a bowl. She walks towards the middle and starts to whisper to herself, chanting.

"…And with mine own blood may I be healed…"

She goes to uncap the bottle but stops when she hears--

"What's that do?"

She rolls her eyes and sighs, "Spike." She turns around to face him as he moves toward her. He stops about six feet from her.

"Hello, love. How've you been?"

"Seen better days. But it'll all be fine in a minute."

She turns back to the bowl but Spike appears behind her and catches her shoulder.

"Can't let you do that."

She grabs his arm, twirls him around and effortlessly flings him across the room. He lands hard. She looks at him with disdain and calls, "Kill you now, kill you later, it's all the same. Either way, this ritual is getting done."

Spike rises painfully and then launches himself at her. He tackles her and, as they fall, the bottle rolls across the room. Trista looks at the retreating bottle and now she's pissed. She kicks Spike off of her causing him to fall heavily onto the ground.

"Okay, then. Kill you now."

As she advances on Spike, he pulls out a flask. She watches him as he unscrews the flask.

"What the…"

"Bottoms up," says Spike quietly and downs the flask. His jaw sets as his body starts to shake with pain. His muscles strain with a newfound strength. He locks eyes with her. She shrugs off her curiosity and goes to kick him. He catches her foot. She looks at him stunned, and, without a word, he pushes her foot causing her to fly into a crate. She gets up angrily. Getting what's going on she says, "So, they pump you up and send you into the lion's den with a magic trick up your sleeve? Like that's gonna be enough."

Spike rises and says, "It'll get it done."

After a slight pause, they attack. Trista swings but Spike rears back, causing her to miss. They're moving like wild fire hitting and blocking. He swings, she blocks, she swings, he blocks, she cracks him in the knee, he falls but turns the fall into a leg sweep, she jumps over his leg avoiding the fall, in the air, with supernatural speed, she kicks him in the face, he falls back from the hit, but in the same fluid motion, jumps up, landing on his feet, he swings at her punching her hard in the jaw, she recovers quickly and roundhouse kicks him, he catches her leg causing her to spin horizontally, she falls onto the ground but does a backwards somersault and is back up in an instant, he grabs her and knees her in the ribs, knocking the wind out of her, she recovers and backhands him, he punches, she punches, he crescent moon kicks her in the face and punches, they end up moving back close to a wall, she jumps onto the wall and uses the momentum to spin around and hit Spike hard, she grabs his arm and locks it, she spins him and makes him fly over the conveyor belt and hit the adjacent wall hard.

"What is this, Spike?"

She advances on him, antagonizing him, hating him.

"Trying to save the world? Or is it the girl? Are you trying to save me, Spike?"

She walks to the belt, rips it from the ground and throws it aside.

"Come on! This has 'pretentious bollocks' written all over it!"

He rises to attack but she stops him with five sharp jabs to the face causing him to fall back but not onto the ground. He's bleeding.

"Or, wait, maybe you're here to kill me."

She hits him again and again. He moves back again, loosing his momentum. She backhands him, hard. He falls to the ground. Trista turns away and scoops up the bottle. She moves back to the center of the pentagram.

"I'd bet anything you'd probably chalk this up to another ridiculous redemption slash humanity mission for the big ol' goblet of Fresca."

"Mountain Dew…" says Spike quietly.

Trista turns and says, "What's that, sweetie?"

Spike looks up at her with a fire in his eyes that she's never seen. He says with venom in his words, "It was **Mountain Dew**."

He launches himself at her again. He hits her quickly and sharply three times and grabs the bottle from her hand and flings it across the room. It hits the wall and shatters. Trista sees this and screams in despair, "NO!"

Before she can blink, Spike's on her, he hits her again and again absolutely pummeling her. He grabs her by the back of her head and throws her down onto the ground, from Spike's force, she rolls across the floor, stopping in a daze. Spike punches a crate and grabs a shard of jagged wood. He stands over her. He rears back, about to stake her, but stops dead. He looks in her eyes and sees her fear, her humanity. And, even more, he feels her--

bumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbump

--rapid heart beat.

On a cold New York night, Trista walks down the street alone. She's worried about the Apocalypse, she's worried about Avachius but, mostly, she's worried about Spike. She walks down the street thinking of the vision she just saw, his painful, lonely death.

She reaches her destination, an old bookstore. She goes in and makes a beeline for the back. She reaches the back room and walks in to find a beautiful man of about forty. He has shaggy brown hair and piercing green eyes. He looks at her but makes no attempt to rise.

"Can I help you?"

"That's what I've been told. I hear you do spells."

"You heard right."

"You're a vampire?"

"I am."

"I need to be one too."

"Then why do you need me?"

"Because I was told you could do a spell that brings about immortality through vampirism without losing your soul."

Spike drops his stake and falls to his knees by her. She's crying and saying, "Dead, dead, dead--"  
"No. No, love, you're not dead. You're not."  
He takes her up into his arms and she looks at him with recognition.  
"Spike?"  
"Yeah. Yeah, pet. It's me."  
"He lied to me. He lied! I didn't know, I swear," she frantically pleads, clawing at Spike weakly.  
"What? Who lied to you?"  
"He said I wouldn't loose my soul."  
"Love, when a vampire bites you, it's a given that you'd--"  
"But I wouldn't let him bite me! It was a spell! It was a spell!"

The man anoints Trista with ceremonial oils, as sage burns and he chants.  
"Now, there'll be a slight hallucination of a traditional vampire bite but other than that the side effects are minimal."  
Trista nods at him nervously.  
"You ready?"  
Trista thinks of Spike, of all he means to her.  
"I am."

"You have to believe me! I didn't mean it. I just didn't want you to die alone."  
"What…?"  
"She showed me! She showed me you dying. It was horrible. I couldn't let it happen. But she was lying too! She just wanted me to die. So I could kill people."  
"God…" Spike trails off, overcome by his own emotions. He holds her close and says, "But it's alright. You're alright now."  
Trista pulls away from him to make eye contact. She cries frantically, "No! It doesn't last. It never lasts!"  
"It's okay--"  
"And the prophecy! I didn't know. I don't want to hurt any more people, Spike. I don't! If you let me go, I'll just keep killing!"  
"No. Listen, Trista…"  
Trista stops listening. She looks to the door off the warehouse, the sun came up and sunlight is shining through the slightly ajar door. She looks back to Spike.  
"…We can still help you. We can still fix you."  
Trista smiles at him sadly and caresses the side of his face affectionately. She whispers with love, "Sure we can."  
She then rears back her hand that was caressing him and balls it into a fist. Before he can react, she decks him. She then rises quickly into a run towards the door.   
"TRISTA!"  
Spike rises and chases after her. She flings open the door and runs into the sunlight outside. She runs her hands through her hair and looks up at the sky and spins around. It's as if she hasn't seen the sun in years. Spike can still feel her heart beat…  
Bumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbu--  
She locks eyes with him and then bursts into flame. It's over in an instant. Spike stares at the pile of ash that used to be Trista. He falls to the ground in utter despair.

It's been a year. Giles, Buffy, Faith, Willow, Xander, Andrew, Spike, Lorne and Chloe are all gathered in the warehouse where Trista died. There's a table set up with food and drinks and there're chairs for everyone and a stereo. It's a party.  
"Would anyone like to say a few words?" Chloe asks.  
"Well, I suppose, I'd like to say that," begins Giles, "Trista was a good person, and, clearly a hero."  
"Here, here!" says Xander and drinks. They all raise their drinks in toast.  
Lorne stands and says, "Just a few words for my dear departed. I loved Trista like family and while it's a sad occasion to loose her, I pray that her sacrifice is enough to get her a one way ticket to Elysium."Everyone raises their glasses again.  
"I'd like to speak," says Andrew.  
"Take it away, Andy," says Buffy.  
Andrew clears his throat overdramatically and begins, "Trista, a unique being with a heavy heart, was driven by love and heroism to make a fatal mistake that will later. Cost. Her. Life--"  
He's cut off by a roll being thrown at his head. Chloe looks at the ceiling innocently. He goes from orator to whiner, "I'm up all night writing this speech and what do I get?"  
"A stunning lack of appreciation?" asks Buffy.  
"A suck audience?" asks Faith.  
"Syphilis?" asks Chloe.  
"I had that," pipes up Xander.  
"That was funny," says Willow playfully.  
"Oh, that's right," says Xander sarcastically, "It was the _funny_ syphilis."  
"Sure was," says Buffy.  
"What do you guys say we put on some music? I have Trista's favorite CD…" begins Chloe.  
"Oh, wait. One more thing," begins Willow, "Let's just," she indicates one last toast. Everyone understands and stands to face where Trista's ashes used to be and all say, with the exception of Spike, who stays sitting and barely raises his beer, "Happy Life Day, Trista!"  
Chloe then clicks on the stereo. "If I Ever Leave This World Alive" by Flogging Molly plays.

_If I ever leave this world alive  
I'll thank for all the things you did in my life  
If I ever leave this world alive  
I'll come back down and sit beside your  
feet tonight  
Wherever I am you'll always be  
More than just a memory  
If I ever leave this world alive_

Willow and Xander get up and start dancing. Chloe, Andrew and Buffy join in. Giles, Faith and Spike sit off to the side. Spike sits sadly withdrawn from the group. He never really made peace with what happened. He'll never really know if she's okay.

_If I ever leave this world alive  
I'll take on all the sadness  
That I left behind  
If I ever leave this world aliveThe madness that you feel will soon subside  
So in a word don't shed a tear  
I'll be here when it all gets weird  
If I ever leave this world alive_

Suddenly, Spike looks around shocked. People appeared out of nowhere. But, no… they're not just people. He looks to where everyone was dancing and sees Tara smiling and watching over Willow. And Spike sees Anya. She smiles at Xander as he talks to Willow and puts her hand on his shoulder. Joyce Summers brushes hair out of Buffy's eyes. They're all there. Gunn, Wesley and Fred together, Angel and Cordelia, Sam, Doyle. They look at their loved ones and smile and laugh with each other. Wes and Fred dance together, doing a spazzy version of the Waltz.

_So when in doubt just call my name  
Just before you go insane_

Spike looks over to Giles and sees Jenny Calendar with her arm draped around Giles's shoulders. She smiles at Spike. It's clear that no one can seem them but him. Nonetheless, there's a general feeling of warmth and mirth in everyone.

_If I ever leave this world  
Hey I may never leave this world  
But if I ever leave this world alive_

Spike looks over towards Xander as he moves out of the way, revealing Trista. She stands there, smiling at him. She makes no attempt to move towards him.

_She says…_

She smiles wide and mouths along with the lyrics.

_…I'm okay; I'm alright,  
Though you have gone from my life  
You said that it would,  
Now everything should be all right_

Someone passing in front of her obstructs his vision of her and when he has the opportunity see her again, she's gone.

_She says I'm okay; I'm alright,  
Though you have gone from my life  
You said that it would,  
Now everything should be all right  
Yeah should be alright_

Spike looks reflectively at where she was and he smiles.

**The End.**


End file.
